


Stuck(y) In the Woods

by FluffySax



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Camp, Camping, Cuddling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Meeting, First Time, Fluff, Gentleman Bucky Barnes, Getting Lost, Happy Ending, In The Woods, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confession, M/M, Making Out, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, School Trip, Sex, Sleeping Together, Sleeping in a Tent, Smut, Teenagers, Virgin Steve Rogers, little shit steve rogers, oh yeah there's only one sleeping bag, there's only one tent, they're not 5 feet apart cause they're gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffySax/pseuds/FluffySax
Summary: “They wouldn’t have just left, right?” Steve asked.“They can’t be far, if they did leave,” Bucky spoke softly.“Do you even know which way to go? I don’t have a compass, map or phone on me.”“I…I don’t know, Steve.”Fucking great. Steve was stuck in a forest he didn't know, with a guy he didn't know and only one tent and one sleeping bag. Really fucking great indeed.Cue Steve and Bucky going on a school trip, getting lost in the woods, lots of fluff and two boys growing intimate faster than either one would have thought it possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When I first started this on a whim, I figured it would be somewhere around 5k. Yeah...that escalated quickly.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry for the horrible pun in the title of this fic, I just couldn't contain myself and at least I had a laugh about it.
> 
> As always beta'd by the amazing [ @Noenie ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noenie/pseuds/Noenie) and @toobusyforthisshit! I will forever be in your debt ♡
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’ll be okay, ma, I promise,” Steve said for the thousandth time when he leaned back from the hug.

“Don’t let anybody force you into anything you can’t and don’t want to do, sweetie. And don’t forget to take your medicine!”

Steve pecked his mom’s cheek one last time before he turned around and swung – somewhat clumsily – his heavy backpack over his narrow and bony shoulders. “See you in a week!”

If it was up to his mom, he would never get on the bus to god knows where. But when this survival trip to the woods had first been announced, Steve hadn’t doubted one second. He knew he wasn’t particularly made for surviving, camping and everything that came with it; he regularly suffered from severe asthma attacks, he had as little muscle mass as a dead stick of wood and his immune system wasn’t exactly functioning the way it should. But that had never stopped him from doing what he wanted, not even this time, when everyone had laughed right in his face when he’d raised his hand to sign in on the trip.

On the contrary, it had given him even more motivation to go. He would show them he wasn’t as fragile as glass, ready to shatter into a thousand pieces when touched, or that he wasn’t just the nerd from class who knew how to solve every maths problem or difficult chemistry equation. He was so much more than that. He was Steven Grant Rogers. He was a boy – dare he say man - who had the stamina of a horse and fought for what was right. He had integrity and always put others before himself, even when no one ever thanked him for it later.

But it wasn’t all to prove others wrong. This trip was also for himself. He was seventeen years old, had always lived with his mom, never went out much, had not once been in a relationship and barely had any friends (though the ones he did have were the absolute best, despite him cursing them several times a day for their constant badgering). If a scholarship would allow it, he would be moving out after this schoolyear, and he needed to experience – even if it was only a very simplified version of – what it was like to not be surrounded by the loving, warming and safe presence of his mom. He needed to experience what it was like to be alone and to take care of himself. Not like this trip would teach him the ins and outs of life all at once, he knew that. But he hoped to get one step closer to being a man, even if that step was only a tiny one.

“Hey Rogers! You comin’ or you wanna stay home with your mommy?”

Steve shook his head, not having realised he’d been daydreaming right in front of the door of the bus while everyone inside and the few parents outside had been waiting for him to get on. He quickly shoved his backpack in the luggage space of the touring car and took the three ascending stairs onto the bus. He consciously filtered out all the lingering gazes and silent laughter when he faced the rest of the students and some teachers.

His English lit teacher, Mrs. Carter, smiled at him softly while pointing him in the direction of the only spare seat, next to Bucky Barnes.

Steve wasn’t one to judge, so he wouldn’t, but Bucky had most certainly raised some questions in his head. Steve had been in the same class as him for almost four years, but they’d barely exchanged any words. Even when they’d collaborated on a practical assignment Bucky had barely said anything. However, he’d done the work properly, so Steve hadn’t complained.

He just couldn’t get a grip on the guy. He always looked like he would punch anyone who dared to step a little too closely; he wore this face of disinterest and something that said ‘stay away from me or you’ll suffer the consequences’. But even though Steve never did get a good impression of the guy, he believed the angry demeanour was a mask to hide his real self. But then again, how much did Steve really know about him?

He took his seat and breathed a soft and uncertain _Hi_ to the boy next to him, who averted his eyes from the trees outside for a split-second to watch Steve, before he turned around again.

 _Great. Just great._ _Guess I’ll have to entertain myself these coming five hours._

He looked around the bus to search for Natasha and Sam, his only two good friends, who were somewhere in the back, sending him apologetic looks and mouthing something that Steve interpreted as _Good luck_ while pointing towards Steve’s left, where Bucky was sitting.

He mouthed back a _Thanks_ before shifting in his seat and getting out a book. When the engine started roaring he waved to his mom once more and off they went. Here comes a week with presumably little sleep, heavy backpacks and shitty food. And still, Steve couldn’t wait for it to begin.

They had just turned around the first corner when the crackling sound of a cheap sound installation came through the speakers, followed by the voice of Mrs. Carter.

“Good morning students! Are you ready to survive from nothing but Mother Nature this coming week?” A loud cheer erupted together with clapping hands and some enthusiastic responds. “I hope you do realise this isn’t all just fun, you’re expected to work yourself in sweat.”

“The description said we’d go to a beach paradise!” a boy Steve knew was called Tony said in feign shock.

“You can still get off now,” Carter shrugged with a sly grin. “If you don’t, there will be no remorse this week! Every day, we have breakfast at seven thirty.” Some silent complaints echoed through the bus, which were shushed quickly as Mrs. Carter continued. “After ten PM we don’t want to hear any sounds anymore, because people are trying to sleep then. It that clear?”

A murmur of “Yes, ma’am” was the answer.

“Good. Now there are not a lot of other rules, most importantly, we want you to be nice to each other and help one another out when necessary. And since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together these coming days, you may call me Peggy for now.”

Mrs. Carter – Peggy – shared a look with the other teachers, asking if she’d covered it all, before speaking in the microphone again. “I think that’s all. We’ll be there in five hours, prepare yourselves! And enjoy the week!”

The click of the microphone being switched off echoed through the speaker and people erupted in the enthusiastic banter while Steve opened his book and flipped to the page he’d left off. But he’d only read half a page when Mr. Lang’s voice was audible through the amplifier.

“One more thing,” he said. “I know you’re all teenagers who are just finding out the beauty of physical contact,” - _oh god was he giving the no sex speech?_ \- “and I know there are at least a few couples on this bus” - _yup, definitely the no sex speech_ \- “but we’re all sleeping in small tents that do nothing for sound isolation, so no sex this week students! Nobody wants to wake up to two people doing the act. The same goes for masturb-” he was cut off by Peggy.

“I think they got the point, Scott,” she laughed.

“Yes. Right. Okay,” he said before turning off the microphone again and sinking into his seat. Even Steve acknowledged that Mr. Lang was quite…peculiar. He always meant well, that much was certain, but he really was a little extraordinary.

Peggy, however, was awesome. Everything about her was kind, sweet and funny, yet authoritative. The majority of the students liked her way of teaching and that payed off well in and out of class; people did their homework which resulted in them not always having to work their asses off during every class. It was a win-win situation really.

The ride from there on was calm and relaxed – except for the loud bickering from everyone around Steve and the thumping sound of the music of a Bluetooth speaker one student Steve didn’t recognise had brought.

And as expected, Bucky didn’t say a word, he only looked out of the window as if highly intrigued by the nature that surrounded them. Hell, maybe he was, who knew? After all, there had to be a reason he’d come on the trip, right? It seemed like a weird decision to join a trip where you’re surrounded by people you don’t want to talk to (that’s what it seemed like to Steve, anyway) if there wasn’t anything about it you enjoyed.

Steve didn’t really mind the relative silence around him. He had his books and music and was visited by Natasha and Sam every once in a while (who were always scolded after only a minute for walking while on the road).

Before he realised it, five hours had passed already and the bus came to a stop on the edge of the woods.

“We’re here kids!” Mr. Lang announced. “Get your own bags from the bus and don’t forget anything near your chairs!”

Steve waited patiently for all the other students to get their stuff and move to the exit of the bus. After all it never worked out all too well to force your way out all at once. Something about getting squashed in the midst of a hurried and inpatient crowd, right. He shot a glance at Bucky to check if he did want to get out already, but the latter just remained seated and even mumbled some incoherent words that Steve barely picked up. He interpreted it as “I can wait.”

Natasha and Sam passed by and told Steve they’d wait for him outside. When almost everyone had stepped outside, except for Tony - who was cursing and frantically rummaging through his red and gold leather bag, “Goddammit where’s my phone!” he exclaimed before storming out of the bus towards his friends – and two giggling girls, Steve got up and so did Bucky.

Halfway through the journey Sam had come by to talk to Steve about whatever was on his mind at that moment, because “I got to check on my buddy! We were tragically separated at the beginning, but that won’t keep me away from you!” Steve had laughed and shoved Sam away from him, assuring him he was okay and that he’d survive another two and a half hours on a bus if he was planning on surviving a week of camping in the forest (which he was).

Sam had left after that, but not before helping Steve out by putting his jacket and the small bag that formed his hand luggage on the carriers above the chairs, which Steve hadn’t been able to reach earlier.

And he should have seen this coming. Because Sam had been so nice to give Steve some space for his legs by putting away the luggage because he hadn’t been able to reach it, but it wasn’t like he’d magically gained twenty inches over the last hours, which meant he still wasn’t able to reach it. But his bag and jacket were up there, and Sam wasn’t there to help.

“Uhm,” Steve started softly, trying to get Bucky’s attention, but not actually wanting to bother the guy who didn’t want to speak with his problems.

Bucky looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes, his eyes questioning until Steve awkwardly waved his hand in the luggage rack’s direction. Words would have been helpful, but dear god, those were some ridiculously beautiful peepers staring right at him. They made up for all the words not audibly spoken.

“Steve?” Of course. Of fucking course did this man have a voice like an angel too. Sometimes life was so unfair.

“My luggage,” Steve blurted out. “I can’t reach my luggage.” And _god_ how pathetic did that sound? And how did Bucky know his name? To most people Steve didn’t even exist.

“Oh,” Bucky said, immediately reaching up to get Steve’s things and Steve did not stare at the newly exposed skin when Bucky’s shirt rose up slightly at the stretch. He definitely didn’t.

Bucky put the jacket and bag on the ground in front of Steve and left with a gentle smile. And who even was this guy? First, he doesn’t say a word in four years and continues that accomplishment the entire journey. Then, he’s somehow magically blessed with eyes that can make you come in your pants when you look in them a little too long. To make it even worse, he’s got this deep, sultry voice and from the mini preview Steve had gotten he’s sporting some rock-hard abs. And to top this godawful fairy-tale story off, Bucky had been _nice._

Somehow it seriously messed up Steve’s mind.

He barely noticed Natasha asking him what took him so long and when he responded with an undecipherable explanation Sam hit him on the shoulder (gently – he was always gentle when it came to Steve’s body); an efficient way to pull Steve out of his train of thought.

“Man, where are you with your mind?”

“’M sorry,” was Steve’s reply. He grabbed his backpack and made his way to the rest of the group. If he would have explained the real reason of his mind’s absence, he was certain he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Sam and Natasha weren’t exactly two people to have mercy on someone (usually Steve, _especially_ Steve) when it came to teasing and making someone uncomfortable and when they experienced amusement because of it.

 

When everyone had gathered around, they’d started the first hike of the week. The teachers promised it wasn’t long; only an hour to their first campsite in the middle of the forest.

Steve didn’t complain during what became two hours of walking, even though his back hurt and he started to feel a little lightheaded from exhaustion. But he’d signed up for this trip and knew this was going to happen, so he’d walk.

Of course his mom had fought Steve on going, but had eventually left the decision to be made by Steve. When Steve had signed up, however, she hadn’t budged in the discussion about Steve’s health, and had informed all the accompanying staff of his school about his detailed medical requirements and weak health, to make sure Steve wouldn’t come back half dead. And if he was being honest, she did have a point.

So Peggy checked in on him every thirty minutes and gently, but no less insistently told him to let her know if he needed a break or felt any pain. It was meant well, of course it was, but he did have his friends around him – who Sarah had personally given a full course about medical treatment Steve could possibly ever need (and much, much more; she worried over her son plenty) – and he’d be just fine.

Once arrived, every duo got a small tent – the ones you throw in the air, and just pop up and a tent appears. Steve called it magic. Sam and Steve slept together and Natasha shared one with Wanda, a girl from Steve’s biology class (she’d always seemed really kind, maybe he should invest in becoming a little closer to her).

Dinner was served by the small group of students that had cooking duty for the first night. Everyone got a bowl of Pasta Bolognese (“it looks like burned, mushed brains,” Sam had supplied) and the plans of the next day were explained.

“As mentioned this morning,” Peggy started, “breakfast will be at seven thirty. Group three is on duty to make breakfast, so you’re expected to be up at seven at the latest. We’ll stay here for a total of two nights, so we got the entire day tomorrow. The first thing on the agenda is orienteering. You will be divided into groups of five people and you’ll be left somewhere with a radius of eight miles. You will be supplied with a map of the forest and a compass. It depends on how long it takes you to get back to the camp site, but it might be a wise choice to take food and enough water with you.”

“And for the ones with a bad sense of direction, maybe take your tent and sleeping bag too!” Mr. Lang joked, to which the entire group laughed.

Steve did have a really bad sense of direction. In fact, he had a negative sense of direction; no matter where he was (unless it was the street he lived), he always went in the wrong direction. And whenever he tried to beat the reversed psychology, and went the opposite direction than his first instinct told him to go, he still always ended up at the entirely wrong place. Thank god for Google Maps.

Thankfully he knew for a fact that Nat was made for working with a compass, and they’d for sure find their way back in time. So they wouldn’t need to take a tent for sleeping, but it would be nice to have shelter when the rain would hit. And according to the weather graphs Sarah had supplied Steve with, it was going to rain tomorrow. Maybe taking one of the tents, just in case, wasn’t such a bad idea. At least Sarah would be pleased about Steve’s precautionary thinking.

He’d ask Sam about it tomorrow. First, sleep.

**

Steve was one of the lucky people who had to prepare breakfast, as well as Sam, who wasn’t quite the morning goer (which led to a good amounts of grunts and complains about why he’d ever thought it was good idea to go on this trip).

After breakfast, Sam had complimented Steve’s thinking on the tent but he wasn’t going to carry it (he threw in another ‘argument’ about him being way too exhausted because of the ungodly hour “this demi God had to wake”).

In a moment of weakness (that’s how Steve looked back at it), Steve had invited Bucky to join him, Sam, Natasha and Wanda for the orienteering. He’d seen Bucky standing alone and couldn’t shake the thought of him not having a group to spend the day with, it was too sad (and it reminded Steve excruciatingly much of his youth) so he’d stepped forward and awkwardly invited Bucky. If the rest had raised a questioning brow, and Sam had made a teasing comment, Steve had ignored them.

An hour of blindfolded being driven around by some arranged cars, their phones were exchanged with a compass and map and they were left alone with the instruction to be back in three hours, or they’d miss lunch. They did get one of those old Nokia phones without internet (so they wouldn’t be able to cheat) but with cell reception and an SMS and call function in case they did get lost.

Steve also carried his smaller backpack with him, which contained his medicines, several jugs of water (for himself and a few extra for his teammates), a sandwich (just in case), some fresh clothes (just in case too), sun protection cream (he knew they’d be in the forest most of the time, but just in case), a handful of those disgusting nutrient bars which they’d all gotten earlier and lastly, his sleeping bag. Even he didn’t know why he’d taken that particular item. And he knew he couldn’t get away with _just in case_ for this one, because you need a sleeping bag for sleeping, nothing else. Which meant he either didn’t trust his groupmates’ abilities to navigate, or he was planning on sleeping during their orienteering, which he wasn’t. It made for some snaring comments from both Sam and Natasha and even a silent giggle from Bucky (Steve wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been obsessively watching him).

Sam eventually ended up taking the tent, as he’d excessively emphasized how he definitely was not going to walk in the rain and how he thought it was a brilliant idea of Steve to take a tent. But after only ten minutes of hiking he was already complaining about carrying the folded up portable canvas shelter.

“Guys, how do I carry this thing?” And not a minute later, “Seriously, I can’t take this much longer.”

Natasha wasn’t at all amused, as she looked up from the compass in her hand and told Sam off. “Sam, for Christ’s sake, if you don’t stop whining like a three-year-old, I will personally tie you to one of these trees and only come to find you when you’ve realised what a pussy you are,” she said dead serious.

People who didn’t know Natasha well, most likely wouldn’t take the threat too seriously, but Steve knew better. She was the absolute sweetest friend, always there when you need her, but she was not one to be played with. _You’d_ get played twice as hard instead.

“I am not! And you wouldn’t dare,” Sam said, offended.

“Please,” she huffed. “Don’t you remember that time last year when you were being an equal piece of shit? And do you remember what happened after that?”

“I do,” Steve said when Sam remained silent, an unamused expression on his face. Oh, Sam _knew_ very well what happened, never talked about it, though. Steve guessed it had left a mark too deep in his soul to talk about, it had embarrassed him too much. Sam had a huge ego. Still, best guy in Steve’s life.

“I’m not sure I remember correctly, though,” Steve continued with a cheeky grin. Sam basically growled at him, which Steve decided to ignore. It was simply too entertaining to for once not be the centre of their friend’s teasing. “But didn’t Natasha manage to trick you into undressing _completely_ and then dropped your annoying ass down the street for you to walk the fancy neighbourhood of spoiled Brock Rumlow _naked_?”

“You forgot the part where I _carried_ him like a princess, and he couldn’t do a thing to help himself,” Natasha snickered. “But the rest sounded pretty accurate.”

“Okay, first of all,” Sam snapped, mostly focusing on Bucky and Wanda, who he could still try to convince of his version of the story, “I was drunk. Which explains why I may or may not have been irritating a bunch of people. And second, I was _drunk_! I had no chance of defending myself!”

“Ah poor baby,” Nat cooed and Steve heard the giggling of the others behind him.

“I didn’t deserve that treatment, and you know it!” he said, pointing an accusing finger in Nat’s reaction, before turning around in protest. It only made the rest of the group laugh out loud.

“I’ll carry the tent,” Bucky said softly after everyone’s laughter had subsided somewhat. Everyone looked back to him in surprise. Bucky had still been strong on not saying a word ever since Steve had asked him to join, and that had only been a muttered, “Thank you”.

Sam seemed to sense an opportunity, however, and quickly recovered his posture and launched forward to press the package of canvas in Bucky’s hands. “I’m starting to like you, Barnes!” he blurted with a smile and a wink before he turned around and strolled past Natasha’s unamused face with an evil grin.

Wanda giggled softly as she took Natasha by the hand and they continued their way while Steve and Bucky stayed behind. Steve watched how Bucky attached the tent package to his bag with a practised nod, like he did it every day. When Bucky fluently swung the bag back on his shoulders as if it weighed nothing, and looked up, Steve quickly averted his eyes, but he didn’t miss the millisecond when their eyes had met and Bucky’s mouth had turned into the tiniest of smiles.

If it made Steve smile the biggest of smiles while he turned around to follow the others, well that was between him and the small bird in the tree that had been watching the scene take place.

They walked like that – Steve and Bucky in a comfortable silence, Sam and Natasha bickering over which way to go, and Wanda trying to keep the peace by intervening with her calm words – for what seemed like at least an hour. Steve wouldn’t admit it, but he was worn to the bone. His back ached, and air seemed to be harder to take in with every breath that passed his lungs.

Because of Natasha’s persistence, he’d taken a break and a puff through his inhaler not long ago, and he felt better after that. And he was determined to finish with the rest of them and get back to the camp, even with the relatively heavy (for him) backpack. Sam of all people had offered to carry the bag for Steve, but he’d refused forcefully. He got this.

“You okay?”

Steve was about to go into full blow about how people should stop asking him if he’s okay – he’s thin, not weak – when he realised it was Bucky asking. His features immediately softened (he had no idea why, the boy seemed to have that effect on him) and he turned his back to his once again bickering friends.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” Steve said, but didn’t exactly prove his point by taking off the bag and accidently letting the shoulder straps slip through his fingers and dropping the backpack.

“Shit!” he cursed as the bag began rolling down the hill they’d just walked onto.

Bucky didn’t hesitate a second before he started running, trying his best to keep up to the bag disappearing out of sight.

Steve immediately followed him, running the fastest he could as to not lose his bag and Bucky. He was completely breathless when he saw Bucky standing at the foot of the hill.

“It fell down, close to the river,” he said, a lot less out of breath than Steve, who felt an asthma attack looming around the corner. Without responding to Bucky, he stumbled to the closest nearby tree and leaned against it heavily with two extended arms, his head hanging low between his shoulders as he tried his best to control his rapid breathing.

Before he could even process Bucky moving, he was already beside Steve, his right hand caressing Steve’s bony back in small, soothing circles.

“Steve, try to follow my breathing, okay?” he said as he leaned in close to Steve’s ear, to make sure he heard him well. All it did was speed up Steve’s breathing.

After a minute of consciously trying to even out his breathing, Steve turned around and slowly sank to the ground.

“Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Bucky asked.

“I’m always a pain in the ass for people, with me being ill and everything,” Steve shrugged.

“You don’t exactly seem like a burden to me,” Bucky said and Steve had no idea how to interpret that. Then what exactly _did_ he seem like to Bucky?

Before Steve could get too consumed in his thoughts, Bucky spoke again. “So I think your bag is down there,” he said as he pointed to the edge where the trees stopped and the ground went steep downhill, like a little valley. Steve figured a small stream ran through the forest there, as they’d followed the sound of water the last hour. He couldn’t see the water from here, as the river ran much lower than the ground they were sitting on; like the river had cut its way through layers and layers of soil and rocks, which it probably had.

“Can we get there?” Steve asked.

“We can try,” Bucky replied.

Bucky helped Steve up by his hands (he didn’t even think about it twice, Steve definitely did) and they moved to the edge of the three metre deep valley.

“Any ideas of how to go about this?” Steve said as they both looked at his bag lying three metres beneath their feet, definitely out of reach. And it didn’t make it any easier that there was no path to the water side and the ground was steep.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Bucky said as he started rumbling through his own backpack, pulling out a rope only seconds later. Steve didn’t ask why Bucky had taken a rope to orienteering; he was thankful Bucky had, because Bucky seemed to think it would get him back his bag.

Bucky pulled the rope around a tree and attached it with a nod just as smoothly as Steve had seen him do to the tent earlier, and gave it an experimental tug before smiling proudly. Next, he rolled the end of the rope around his middle and walked to the edge of the chasm.

“Bucky, are you- ?” Steve started, but stopped in faint shock and slight worry as Bucky started leaning over the edge. Okay, if he fell, he wouldn’t _really_ die, but he could get badly hurt.

“Seriously, Steve. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Steve threw up his hands with a huff. “Maybe you slipping and splattering to the ground so I can pick you up in pieces? Or Lord knows this tree is rotten and can’t hold your weight so it comes crashing down on me while you splatter to the ground anyway but this time I can’t come pick you up in pieces, ‘cause, you know, I’d be in pieces myself by then.”

“Okay. You’re weird. But seriously, don’t worry, I’ve done this before,” Bucky shrugged as he moved down and down. Before Steve knew it, Bucky was already down by the water and collecting Steve’s things.

“Can you catch, Steve?” Bucky asked as he held up the bag.

“Try me,” Steve teased back.

He did catch it as Bucky skilfully threw the backpack in the air. Steve was glad, however, that from Bucky’s current position he couldn’t possibly have seen Steve stumbling and falling backwards when the weighed landed in his arms and forced his light body to the ground.

“Can you give me a hand?” Bucky asked as his head peeked over the edge.

Steve moved forward and extended his hand. Bucky immediately grabbed onto Steve and pulled himself over the edge with one hand pulling on the rope and one hand in Steve’s. It was either their touching hands and the shiver that ran through Steve’s body because of it (which he would deny happened at all costs), or the way Bucky’s biceps flexed because of the pulling motion, that got Steve so enthralled he didn’t move away when Bucky finally pulled himself over the edge. Bucky’s body hit Steve’s and the latter fell (again), pulling Bucky down to the ground with him by their entangled hands.

They were suddenly so close, and Steve lost his breath all over again, but this time it was definitely not caused by his asthma. He looked in Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky looked straight back at him and Steve suddenly felt such a pressing urge to push his lips to Bucky’s. It was a thought he’d never had before, at least not combined with one particular person. Sure, he’d imagined what it would be like to kiss someone, to touch someone, but it had never been more than a general imagination. The significant other in his imagination had never had a face he knew, until now. And the weird thing was, he’d only really met Bucky _yesterday_. He’d known him by name for years, but that had been the full extent of their relationship: name acquaintances.

And still, they hadn’t exchanged many words, but there was something about Bucky that enthralled Steve. Something that made him wonder what Bucky was hiding behind his utter silence, something that told him Bucky was so much more than a pretty face (and god was he pretty). And everything Bucky had said or done so far – first helping Steve out on the bus, then helping Sam carry the tent, and now getting Steve’s bag – only proved Steve’s theory that Bucky couldn’t possibly be unkind.

But boy, was Steve confused by his sudden affection for the man _still on top of him_.

“I uhm- yeah…sorry,” Bucky sputtered as he finally (too fast) got off of Steve.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t mind.” _I didn’t mind? Can you sound even more like a creep? That is by far the most pathetic unconscious attempt at flirting_.

Steve didn’t see the blush that covered Bucky’s cheeks as he quickly undid the tie around his middle and the tree and rolled up the rope before he put it back in his bag.

“Shall we get back to the rest?” he asked.

Steve nodded and they made their way up the hill, but when they did, their friends were nowhere to be found.

“Guys, this isn’t funny,” Steve said, slight annoyance to his voice. He wanted to get back to the camp in time and this wasn’t helping. They’d lost enough time with the bag accident already. But even after calling out for them a couple more times, there was no sign of them.

“They wouldn’t have just left, right?” Steve asked, confidence replaced by doubt and uncertainty. They would be in big trouble if they had.

“They can’t be far, if they did leave.”

“Do you even know which way to go? I don’t have a compass, map or phone on me.” Steve hated that he already sounded so desperate, but horror scenarios started playing in his head, like how they’d need to sleep in the middle of the forest tonight (he didn’t realise that was exactly what he’d done the night before, but that had been with a group, in a clearance, alright) or how they would be lost until they would die of starvation or dehydration.

“I…I don’t know, Steve.” And every last bit of hope left Steve’s body with that. So he started doing what every human being would do at this point: scream.

“Natasha! Sam! Wanda!” he repeated it until he was out of breath and felt lightheaded, but his efforts were in vain.

“Fucking great. Just great, Steve,” Bucky said angrily and that comment tipped Steve over the edge of losing his shit in this already completely messed up situation.

“Don’t put this on me, Barnes!”

“Oh, don’t you _Barnes_ me! And how could this possibly be _my_ fault?!” he yelled angrily, triggered by Steve’s tone of voice.

“Oh fuck off!” Steve yelled, even though he realised he was beyond reasonable at this point. He knew this wasn’t Bucky’s fault, and neither was it his own. It wasn’t like he could have prevented his bag from rolling.

“And how good of friends are you really, when they leave you behind like you’re nothing to them?” Bucky yelled back.

“Oh don’t you dare bring my friends into this! I at least have friends!”

All the colour in Bucky’s face suddenly disappeared, his eyes turning completely dark and his mouth fell shut, his breathing quickening.

And Steve should have apologised, but he was too angry, too worried and too damn stressed out to be a decent human being.

Bucky’s face was blank, all emotion vanished by Steve’s last comment, as he stalked past Steve further into the woods.

“Are you just gonna leave me behind?” Steve yelled with a raised voice, but there was a slight tremor to it. He hated that there was, but he was seriously stressed out right now, and even though Bucky was being a pain in the ass, he was Steve’s only hope of making it out alive. And if that sounded over dramatic, that’s your fucking problem to deal with.

Bucky didn’t reply, just kept his fast pace, and Steve stumbled after him, barely keeping up to Bucky’s tempo.

They walked like that for what seemed like a lifetime to Steve. It could be because they hadn’t shared a word for hours. And it wasn’t like that hadn’t happened before, but then there hadn’t been a tension that could cut through ice. It could also feel like he’d been walking for years on end, because it seriously felt like his limps would fall of any second if they’d walk one more metre. And he’s not even talking about his back yet, which was seriously killing him right now.

Steve didn’t have a watch, but he could tell that it was about to get dark already and that didn’t do anything too well for his inner calmness.

“Buck,” he said softly, “maybe we should set up camp, now that we still have light.”

Bucky shrugged, his facial expression still blank like it had been for the last hours, but dropped his bag to the ground in agreement with Steve’s suggestion to stop their search for the others. At least for the day.

Steve had tried his best to stay optimistic throughout the day, but he couldn’t help but think about having to sleep alone, away from the group that was, for the night. Of course Bucky was there. But that was also the problem right there. Bucky was there, who also needed to sleep that night, and preferably (Steve assumed) in a tent. But there was only one tent. And one sleeping bag.

Steve didn’t bring it up immediately, and neither did Bucky. The latter sat up the tent while Steve searched for the crumbled nutrient bars; he was glad to have them now, as it was the only food they had at the moment. They’d already passively shared the sandwich Steve had brought along hours earlier.

He passed one to Bucky, who, without a word, accepted the food and started nibbling on it. Steve handed over one of the bottles of water (which they’d been sparing the entire day) and Bucky took a thirsty gulp, before handing it back to Steve.

It seemed like the tension had ceased somewhat; the glares they shared weren’t angry ones anymore. Instead they were sad, disappointed and most of all exhausted. Steve wasn’t sure whether he preferred the latter or the former. He sure as hell felt a lot more guilty about this – the fact that they’re lost in the middle of freaking nowhere, with no water and food for days, no cell phone or map because he dropped his bag – when Bucky looked at him with that utter sadness that somehow managed to tear apart Steve’s heart. And he didn’t even know if Bucky looked like that because of him.

“You take the tent and sleeping bag,” Bucky said when he finished his bar.

“No,” was Steve’s first reaction, because why would Bucky say that? Was he going to leave Steve behind in the middle of the night and didn’t he want to sleep in the tent because then Steve wouldn’t hear him? Or was this Bucky being too selfless and willing to give up the only comfort they had for the night to someone who had been a complete jerk for the last hours (yeah, Steve knew now how awful he’d been)?

“I mean,” he continued, “at least take the sleeping bag.”

“No, really. I’ll be fine.” And with that Bucky moved a couple of metres away from Steve and pulled a thin blanket out of his bag and put it down on the cold, hard ground. But not before he took off his dirty t-shirt and replaced it with a new one and a sweater Steve hadn’t seen him wear earlier. Steve would have wondered what else Bucky had packed for intentionally only three hours, but he was too distracted by Bucky’s body to actually do so.

What had been wishful thinking earlier on the bus – when Steve had only had seen the smallest sliver of Bucky’s stomach and what he assumed were good abs – was confirmed in that moment. Bucky was absolutely _gorgeous_. He was defined as hell; really good, solid pecs, and when you moved lower those _abs_ , indeed rock hard, and lower, lower still that happy trail that lead to-

Steve felt shame wash over him and looked away. He was insufferable. First there was the whole issue of him feeling absurdly attracted to someone he’d literally shared not more than ten words with, and now he was ogling him when they hadn’t done anything but fight the better half of the day. At least have the audacity to apologise first, before you check someone out.

Bucky laid down, pulled the blanket over himself as he turned his back to Steve.

Steve climbed into the tent and snuggled himself into the comforting warmth of the sleeping bag. He tried not to think too much about everything that went wrong that day, or about the possibility that they wouldn’t find their camp tomorrow either. He closed his eyes and within five minutes he fell asleep when the exhaustion completely settled over him.

 

Steve startled awake and sat up abruptly in immediate need of oxygen. His breathing was out of control, a combination of little, too fast breaths and heavy and hoarse heaving. It had been a while since he’d had an asthma attack in his sleep, but this was a bad one.

He hastily searched for his inhaler and medicines shoved deep into his bag, desperately coughing and struggling to get oxygen in his lungs. His chest felt impossibly tight, like someone was sitting on top of him and he was starting to break a sweat as he struggled to find what he needed as his hands shook terribly.

“Steve?”

Steve fell into another fit of deep, painful coughs and his ears filled with a loud wheezing sound.

“Steve?”

He didn’t notice the zipper of the tent being opened and Bucky entering in a hurry until Bucky took Steve’s face in his hand and looked him straight in the eye.

Steve only managed to croak, “Medicine,” but Bucky seemed to catch on. He gently but hurriedly pushed Steve away from the bag and pulled it towards himself, pulling out and throwing around everything that wasn’t Steve’s medicine and inhaler.

As if trained, he attached the gas capsule to the inhaler and put it to Steve’s mouth while positioning himself behind Steve. He folded his arms under Steve’s without taking away the inhaler from Steve’s mouth and sat his legs next to Steve on both sides, so Steve’s back was tight against his chest.

He spoke soft, soothing words and ordered Steve to follow his breathing while Steve struggled and struggled.

“Steve, listen to me. Breath in…and out. You’re okay. In,” he took a deep breath in, “and out.” He repeated it endless times as Steve’s breathing slowly but surely slowed down.

Steve closed his eyes and leaned back in Bucky’s arms as the control over his respiratory system was back and the aftermath hit. He’d had a good few hours of sleep, but he felt exhausted all over, if not worse than the evening before.

“You’re okay,” Bucky whispered.

They stayed like that for another ten minutes, Bucky repeating his soft, soothing words while Steve relaxed in the comfortable warmth of his strong arms. Steve didn’t dare think about what would have happened if Bucky hadn’t been there and he cursed the odds for letting it get this far. This – Steve getting a severe asthma attack without her in close distance to help – was exactly why Sarah hadn’t wanted Steve to go. This was why she’d almost begged him not to go; not because she didn’t think he deserved to go or because she didn’t want him to have fun with his friends, but because she was terrified out of her damn mind that something bad would happen and she wouldn’t be there to help out her son.

God, he should have never come on this trip.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly in the sweetest of tones. He carelessly caressed Steve’s sweaty cheek with one hand, while the other was still tight around Steve’s chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve croaked.

“You don’t need to apologise, Steve.”

“Yes, I do,” Steve insisted. “I’ve been a complete jerk today. And I’m really sorry.” Bucky went silent at that, but didn’t stop the gentle touching. “I don’t know what got to me and I don’t have any good excuse as to why I was so rude. I should have never said the things I did.”

“You were right, though, I don’t have any friends,” Bucky said, an earnest and somewhat sad tone to his voice.

“It wasn’t for me to emphasize that.”

“If it means anything to you, I’m sorry too. I crossed a line and was a real asshole.”

“Are we good now, though?” Steve asked, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

“Yeah. We’re good.” And Steve felt Bucky’s mouth turn into a smile as his face was pressed against Steve’s neck.

“I’m sleeping next to you for the rest of the night,” Bucky said determinately after a moment of silence.

“You’re what now?” Steve asked in surprise. Weren’t they moving a little fast; they’d literally made up for a day of fighting only a minute ago.

“I don’t know what you’re used to, but I don’t believe that was a light asthma attack, and I’m not letting you suffer from one again. Not under my watch.”

It was in Steve’s nature to fight anyone and everyone with the best intentions to take care of him, so of course he did now too.

“Buck, it won’t happen again. I promise.”

“I don’t care. I saw and heard your ma when we left yesterday and she looked like a really sweet person, so I’m doing this for her sake. And yours as well, of course. You can have the sleeping bag, but I’m not leaving this tent,” he said earnestly, but quickly added “And neither are you,” before Steve could argue that in that case he would leave.

“You’re insufferable,” Steve’s sighed, but his thoughts were slightly different. Yes, he was tired of seventeen years full of worried people around him, but Bucky was _worried about him_. Bucky was taking care of him and being bossy, but in a completely good way that did magical things to Steve. So he couldn’t help himself when he snuggled back into his sleeping bag with a wide smile on his face. And he didn’t complain either when he moved back slightly, and Bucky draped an arm around his waist and spooned him like it was the most normal of things.

“Good night, Steve.”

“Night, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always make my day :)
> 
> Chapter 2 will probably be up in a week!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff fluff fluff!

Steve woke up to the ruffling sound of the tent fabric moving around him. When he looked up sleepily he was met with the smiling face of Bucky, peeking through an opening of the tent zipper just big enough to fit his head through.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Bucky said cheerily.

“Hey, you,” Steve said back, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

“I’m making breakfast,” Bucky chimed.

“Let me guess, a bed of delicious nutrient bar, coated in finely chopped _nutrient bar_ , and not to forget,” he went on sarcastically, “topped with a fine dust of _nutrient bar_?”

“Just wait and see, you jerk,” Bucky said, laughing as he pulled his head back from the small opening of the tent. “You won’t know what hit you once you’ve tasted my master creation! Now get dressed so I can impress you-” _oh, you got that part covered already_ , “with my cooking skills.” Bucky shook the tent wildly after that, earning some playful curses murmured under his breath from Steve.

Steve quickly got dressed, somewhat clumsily stumbling out of the small tent to see what Bucky had created. It was for certain, that he hadn’t expected to see Bucky leaning over a small bonfire, carefully swerving a metal bottle over the heat.

“You made a fire,” Steve said in awe.

“You bet your ass I did,” Bucky laughed.

“How on earth did you make a fire?”

“I’m the god of fire,” Bucky shrugged. “One flick of my fingers,” he emphasized this by dramatically throwing a hand in the air and flowing it around, “and there’s fire.”

“Guess I should watch out for you then.”

“Oh that’s a given.”

“But I’m still somewhat sceptical of this _amazing_ meal of yours. I’m not so sure I’ll appreciate cooked nutrient bar as much as you might think.”

“What makes you think I’m not making something else,” Bucky asked cheekily. Steve walked closer now, carefully as he walked on his bare feet; the long walk yesterday had given him a lot of painful blisters.

“What else could it be? And please don’t tell me you made some sort of weird leave brew, because I won’t eat that. I want to keep my promise to my mom to stay safe – if I haven’t broken it already – and I won’t go poisoning myself.”

“Well I guess your ma was prepared for this situation.” Steve looked at Bucky questionably. “I suppose she was the one to put rolled oats in your bag? There was a package at the bottom, which I found this morning when I put back all your belongings that I’d pulled out last night. So I’m making oatmeal!”

“Guess I’ll do the dishes coming year in gratitude, when we get back,” Steve smiled, but his face scrunched up in a worry mere seconds after the words had left him. The words played in his head, no matter how much he tried to stay optimistic: _if_ we get back at all.

Bucky seemed to sense the shift in Steve’s composure, and he quickly drew himself closer to the smaller boy and draped an arm around Steve’s shoulders from the front.

“Hey,” he said gently, determination present in his voice, “we will find the others. Or a random farmer. Or a lonesome driver. But we _will_ find a way to get back to society. I promise.”

“You can’t promise shit like that, Buck,” Steve whispered in Bucky’s broad chest.

“Yes I can. I promise we will get out of here, Steve. You have my word.”

Steve tried to suppress the completely improper shiver that ran through his entire body, setting his veins on fire for a second, as Bucky pressed his lips to the top of Steve’s head like they’d done it many times before. He nonchalantly turned around to the fire and called over his shoulder, “Are you just gonna stand there and let my Michelin star worthy meal go cold?”

They ate breakfast on the ground, taking a mouthful of the oatmeal with the cap of the flask serving as an improvised spoon and passing the mixture on between each other.

Steve burnt his tongue on the first bite, not at all paying attention to the boiling hot mixture in his mouth. He was too distracted by the sparkles running over the entire length of his outer thigh and knee, the part that was touching Bucky’s leg. Steve had sat down first, and Bucky had immediately sat beside him, leaving no inch to spare between them because “You need to stay warm, Steve.”

It wasn’t even that cold out, and there was the heat of the fire only a metre away, but Steve wasn’t complaining about Bucky’s closeness. And after all, when was he not cold? It was nice having Bucky pressed against him, even though a wistful thought crossed his mind that he’d rather have Bucky right back against him like he’d been last night. That had been really nice.

Bucky passed the oatmeal to Steve once more. “You take the rest,” he said sternly, “make sure you’re saturated enough to last most of the day.”

“Don’t we still have those nutrient bars?” Steve said, already handing the bottle back to Bucky, who, to Steve’s opinion, needed the food much more than him considering body mass.

“Yeah” was Bucky’s reply. Neither of them said it out loud, but both of them thought it: they had no idea how long they had to last with just those few bars and the leftover oats.

“Are you sure you don’t need it? You might need it,” Bucky said once more, holding up the bottle in an offer.

“You might need it more. And you sound just like my mom, being all worried about me.”

“I’m just taking care of you,” Bucky shrugged. “And from what little I know of your ma, I’ll take it as a compliment that I sound like her. She sounds like one hell of a good woman.”

“That she is,” Steve said, beaming as images of him and his mom played in his head. “So, what’s your plan, Mr. Survival?” Steve asked after a moment’s silence.

Steve received a playful punch to the chest for the nickname, but Bucky spoke anyway. “The sun comes up in the east,” he pointed to Steve’s left, “and I saw on the map yesterday, that the campsite is to the west of the river we are supposed to cross once we walk in that direction.” For emphasis, Bucky pointed to Steve’s right.

“Okay. Let’s find this river, then!” Steve said. Even though the optimism was somewhat put on – to convince both himself and Bucky that everything would be okay – he genuinely did feel more hopeful after hearing Bucky’s plan. It seriously sounded like he knew where they needed to go. He ignored the little voice in his head that informed him that they had tried to find the way back yesterday too, in vain. Steve internally argued that they hadn’t found the camp because of their lack of communication the day before, and that Bucky and he were on much better ground now. It had to give them a good outcome of the day.

Bucky professionally folded up the tent while Steve stacked away the small amount of belongings in both their bags. When he was about to put on his shoes, Bucky stopped him.

“Didn’t you say you had blisters?” he asked and Steve didn’t even remember telling Bucky. To his knowledge, he’d only mumbled something about how annoying blisters are once yesterday, keeping it to himself (apparently not) as to not be whiny about it towards Bucky.

“Yeah. But it’s not too bad.”

“Can I have a look?” Bucky asked attentively.

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” Steve shrugged, consciously supressing the giddy feeling brought by Bucky once again taking care of him. He acted like he didn’t like it, because he generally _really_ didn’t, but something about Bucky made it different. With Bucky it didn’t seem to come from pity towards Steve, but genuine liking (Steve felt scared to think this; to get his hopes up) and the interest to take care of someone else, of Steve.

Steve sat down on the log of a fallen tree and stretched his legs, laying his feet in Bucky’s lap, as the latter squatted to his haunches before him.

Bucky brushed away some of the dirt left on the soles of both of Steve’s (Steve had cleaned his feet just a minute earlier to step into his shoes) feet with gentle fingers.

“Growing a foot fetish?” Steve joked as Bucky kept caressing the tender skin, moving to the top of Steve’s feet.

Bucky didn’t respond with words; tickling Steve’s feet for a second was enough to shut the latter up.

“I’ll get some bandages,” Bucky said, like he’d just finished his observation and had made his diagnosis and found a treatment. He pulled a small first aid kit from his bag and took out a couple of plasters, smoothly applying them to several places on Steve’s feet.

“There,” Bucky said, tapping Steve’s feet when he applied the last bandage, “as good as new.”

He even stretched himself out to grab Steve’s socks and shoes, and put them on the smaller man. Steve didn’t notice Bucky’s hands shaking nervously while doing so. He just smiled sheepishly, letting himself be treated and glanced thankfully at Bucky before getting up and putting his bag onto his shoulder.

“Shall we?”

“Yes. Yes, let’s go.”

 

They must have been walking in the opposite direction, because even after the sun had passed its highest point, they still hadn’t found the river that should have been in their path hours ago, according to Bucky’s memory of the map.

They’d made comfortable conversation to pass time and to shift their attention from walking with their heavy bags to something more cheerful, but they’d been silent these last thirty minutes, both realising the disappointment of not finding the way.

And Steve cursed his god awful body for making him experience pain while walking just like yesterday, but ten times worse. Back home, he tried to go to the gym at least twice a week, but for several reasons – him not finding the motivation or being too physically exhausted and sometimes even in pain if he’d been active that day – he didn’t go often. Which ultimately meant his physical condition and muscle mass wasn’t impressive. He knew this and had spent a good amount of years agonizing over it; he made peace with being the ugly, little boy he was. But just for this once, for both his own and Bucky’s chance of survival, he wished his body would for once cooperate with his willing mind and not let him suffer from this pain.

Bucky’s carefully applied bandages had helped, but new blisters had appeared – even when Bucky had tied his shoe laces firmly. His back hurt like hell, a nagging ache that just wouldn’t disappear. And then there were his legs that felt like they would give in to the heavy weight on Steve’s shoulders any second. Bucky had offered to carry Steve’s bag, but as per usual, Steve had been definite and had insisted he was okay.

“Take off your bag,” Bucky said out of nowhere and Steve looked at the young man beside him in a surprised manner.

“What?”

“Take off your bag,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. “It doesn’t matter in how much pain you are, you’ll deny feeling bad anyway. So I’m not asking anymore, and I don’t care what you think of it, but you’re not walking another metre, for at least the next half hour.”

Steve decided not to fight Bucky on him denying he was in pain, he did have a point there, but instead commented on the less practical part of Bucky’s speech. “Buck, we need to keep moving. We can’t just sit around and wait for some cannibal cave man to notice us and eat us alive.”

“You got some weird fantasies, Steve,” Bucky said, making a disgusted face. “And I didn’t say anything about not moving.”

“You have got to be less cryptic here, Buck. I don’t see some sort of plain craft laying around that can take us – _woooah_!”

Steve didn’t get to finish his sentence before Bucky picked him up and pulled Steve’s legs around his waist from the back, piggy back ride style.

“In case your slow mind hadn’t picked up on it yet, I’m carrying you,” Bucky said smugly.

“Put me down,” Steve protested, moving his legs around in Bucky’s firm grasp, but to no effect; Bucky was too strong. “You’re being ridiculous here, Buck! You can’t go carrying me around!” Steve was trying to sound serious, but the laughter echoed through in his voice.

“Sure can, and hold on tight” Bucky shrugged, before leaning down – leaning down with a fucking person on his back (a small and light one, but that’s beside the point here) – to grab both his and Steve’s bags up from the ground. He lifted them by their handles and let them hang in his hands, the bags hung just above the ground as his arms were stretched.

Steve, in the meantime, tugged his legs around Bucky’s waist and folded his arms around his neck, leaning into Bucky’s neck just slightly. God, being this close to Bucky felt so good, and somehow so familiar. Like they were always meant to be so close. A gentle, satisfied smile covered Steve’s face at the thought.

Bucky started walking, only a slight unbalance to his walk while he carried two bags and Steve. Steve was pretty sure Bucky _did_ actually go to the gym, because he must be really fucking strong. Steve forced himself to not get too far in imagining all those muscles of Bucky’s legs, his shoulder, his arms, moving and flexing while Steve was literally plastered to Bucky’s back. It would for certain make for one awkward situation if Steve let his thoughts roam too much; there was no way Bucky wouldn’t notice a boner pressed to his back if Steve got one.

“Tell me about yourself,” Bucky said, once again surprising Steve and pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I’m not that interesting really.”

“I don’t believe that for one second. Are you really the nerd everyone seems to think you are?”

“Hey!” Steve said with mock exasperation while swatting Bucky on his chest from where his arms dangled around his neck. But then he thought about what Bucky had said, and he started to realise all they had done so far was make small talk. Sure, they had started to know each other a lot better – at least each other’s personalities – but they hadn’t shared their interests, hobbies or families yet. So Steve answered obediently.

“No, I’m not a nerd. At least not completely. I like to read and I value good grades, yes, but I do realise there’s a life outside of school.”

“So what is it you do outside of school mostly?”

“I hang out with my friends, mostly Sam and Natasha, and I like to draw.”

“Really?” Bucky sounded ecstatic when he said it.

“Yeah.”

“Do you prefer to paint still lives or portraits?”

Steve didn’t mind the inquisition. He liked sharing this part of him with Bucky. “There is a certain serenity about still lives, but I think I prefer drawing people,” he said.

“You ever drawn…uhm-” Bucky hesitated a moment, “nude figures?” A cheeky grin covered his face.

Steve laughed. “What, you want me to draw you like that?” The words had left his mouth before his brain could catch up to the utter flirtatious meaning of the words. _He was flirting with Bucky_. Oh fuck it, Bucky had initiated it, so how bad could it really be?

Steve let Bucky choke on nothing but air for a minute and watched as Bucky’s turned a beautiful shade of red. He hadn’t taken Bucky as the blusher when it came to these kinds of topics, but he’d been wrong about him before.

As it turned out, he was wrong again.

“How about tonight? I saw you packed some paper and I definitely brought a pencil, so you’re all stacked. I could pose in a tree, or near the water. Anywhere you want,” Bucky said with a completely evil grin on his face that Steve saw from the side.

This time Steve was definitely the one blushing heavily.

After a minute of mentally – and physically, same problem as before - trying to calm himself down, Steve spoke again.

“You have any hobbies?”

Bucky had mercy on Steve, and let him change the subject. “Not really,” he shrugged. “I mean, I like to steal my father’s guitar every now and then, but I’m not sure you can call that a hobby.”

“Well, according to Wikipedia, a hobby is an activity that is regularly done for enjoyment, so I say it is.”

“You’re sure you’re not at least a little nerdy?” Bucky teased.

“Never said I wasn’t _a little_ nerdy,” Steve parroted.

“It’s cute.”

Aaaand the fire in Steve’s body was back. And he was still very much pressed to Bucky’s back.

Words really lacked him this time, and reasonable thinking apparently too, because instead of behaving like a normal fucking human being who would either come up with a clever (maybe a little flirtatious) remark, or casually laugh it off, Steve leaned in to Bucky more than he already did and _pressed his lips to Bucky’s neck_.

There was one perk to being pressed to Bucky like that: Steve could feel every little movement that Bucky made too, like the shiver that passed on from Bucky to himself when he softly grazed his lips over the smooth skin of Bucky’s nape.

They both went silent, the air heavy with new tension.

“I’m starting to seriously reconsider that drawing session,” Steve said after a hopeful minute, still so close to Bucky’s skin that his breath fogged the tiny hairs ever so slightly.

Bucky laughed, visibly letting out a breath he’d been holding. “I hope you’re not charging much. I didn’t happen to bring along my cheque book.”

“Too bad. I may not be famous yet, but I happen to be outstandingly talented, and I charge to quality.”

“Oh, I see,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “There’s no other way I can pay you, besides money?”

“Mmh,” Steve hummed, brows knitted tightly as if seriously considering the offer. “You could do my homework for the next semester?”

“You’re the nerd here, buddy, not me.”

“Touché. How about… you wake me up with that killer oatmeal of yours tomorrow morning, and we can have a deal.” Steve didn’t even think about that he already insinuated that they wouldn’t find their classmates, or anyone at all, that day.

Bucky seemed to consider it for a moment, before shaking his head. “No, from how _outstandingly talented_ you claim to be, I expect your art to be worth more than my _mean_ breakfast.”

Steve seemed perplexed for a minute, before an idea bloomed in his head. He smiled as he said, “How about you play me a song once we’re back?”

“Uhm, yeah. I could do that, sure,” Bucky said in a small voice. “I’m no good, though.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” Steve cut in, somehow not believing Bucky at all; he seemed like the guy who would morph into an instrument once he picked it up. The annoyingly musically talented person, that made you feel bad about your lack of those very musical skills every time you blurted along to a song slightly off key around them. Not like Bucky seemed like the kind of person to judge, but he definitely evoked the idea of him being good at music. He had the right kind of vibe for it.

Eventually, after a surprising 45 minutes, Bucky let Steve walk on his own feet again, having gone a little cramped up by the over usage of his muscles. Steve didn’t mind walking, and before either he or Bucky knew it, the sun started to sink below the horizon of the trees, suggesting it was about to get dark.

They walked for another ten minutes when all of a sudden, Steve heard water running. And if he heard it – with his bad hearing – it must be close.

Bucky seemed to have heard it too, and looked up at Steve with sparkly eyes.

They walked a little further – guided by the sound of rushing water – and within a couple of minutes they saw the streams of what could only be the river they’d been searching for the entire day, it had to be.

“We made it!” Bucky cheered, without a second thought pulling Steve into a hug. Steve beamed like a child that just got his first toy car.

“Yeah, we did,” he mumbled against Bucky’s chest. “You smell,” he said after a moment of silence.

“Wow, you’re insufferable!” Bucky laughed, but sniffed his armpit anyway, scrunching up his nose at the action. “Yuk. I guess you’re right.”

To Steve’s surprise, Bucky began stripping down. First his shoes and socks, and soon after, his jacket and jeans. Bucky began walking down to the riverbank in just his t-shirt and boxer shorts and Steve had an idea of what Bucky’s plans were. And his stomach definitely didn’t do a triple summersault at the thought.

Steve was paralysed where he stood, obsessively watching Bucky as he neared the water, turning around just metres before and yelling, “You smelled a little too, Steve.” Steve knew that was Bucky’s way of inviting Steve to come in with him, and Steve was more than willing to do so. Even if it scared him to death at the same time.

He pulled off his shoes and socks in a hurry, ignoring the sting of his painful blisters as he made his way to where Bucky was pulling off his last garments. He seemed to hesitate for just a second before pulling off his shirt, and then with one slow, teasing motion, Bucky pulled down his boxer, leaving him naked in the twilight.

Bucky was absolutely breathtaking, his smooth skin illuminated by the light glow of the appearing moonshine, his figure a silhouette against the dark woods. And to top it all off, Bucky lifted one arm and pulled at the elastic band holding together his dark, brown hair in a bun, letting it rain down to his shoulders while shaking his head with tiny movements.

Steve tried not to be a complete creep and stare at Bucky’s ass for too long when the latter made his way into the water, waltzing like they did in those cliché romantic comedies (which Steve lived for). He walked closer, ridding himself off his shirt and undershirt – he usually got cold quickly, though he was burning hot now – and let his jeans fall down to the ground, stepping out of them on his way.

He was down to nothing but his boxers now, and his nerves hit him. Bucky had gone naked – _thank fuck for that happy miracle_ – but then again, Bucky was basically built like a demi-god. Steve, not exactly.

Steve must have stood there for a long time staring at nothing in particular, because Bucky turned around, the water rising to his belly button, and looked at Steve in slight concern.

“Are you coming?” he asked softly and that was all the comfort Steve needed. He was suddenly reminded that he didn’t need to feel ashamed of himself around Bucky, that he had no reason to fear Bucky judging him. Because he would have gotten plenty of comments about his lean figure if Bucky had wanted to mention it.

As Steve hooked his fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, Bucky turned around and let him walk down into the water without feeling rushed. He shivered at the cold sting of the water, but strode forward, deeper into the cold, nonetheless.

When he was only half a metre away from Bucky, he turned around and Steve couldn’t help but gasp. Bucky was so incredibly beautiful. He met Bucky’s eyes and smiled gently, completely enthralled by the unique blue-grey shade of the two orbs, the moon reflecting in them, giving them that special shine.

Steve let his eyes roam over Bucky without thinking about it. He moved his gaze down his neck where the soft locks of dark hair caressed the skin, over his right shoulder, over to his strong upper arm. He gasped once again as he saw that perfectly toned abdomen and the happy trail of hair that disappeared below the surface of the water.

He slowly moved up, up to Bucky’s left shoulder, and stopped there. He noticed something he hadn’t seen before, not even when Bucky had been changing right in front of him – must have been the distance and low lighting. Steve reached out a hand, letting his fingers ever so gently graze over the rigidly scarred skin at the joint of Bucky’s left arm and shoulder.

He looked Bucky right back into his eyes again, never stopping the motion of his hand, and couldn’t help but ask. “What happened?” the words softer than a whisper.

Bucky averted his eyes to somewhere over Steve’s shoulder as he spoke, just as silently. “Car accident.” The words came out broken, and Steve’s heart broke a little at the sadness on Bucky’s face.

Steve saw how Bucky struggled to remain in his place under Steve’s touch, but he turned away only seconds later, twisting his upper body and hiding the angry skin with his right hand.

“Buck,” Steve breathed, lifting a finger to Bucky’s chin and nudging slightly to make Bucky’s eyes meet his again. “You don’t have to hide yourself. Not for me, not for anyone.” Bucky looked away again and Steve saw how the sparkle in Bucky’s eyes from just minutes ago had faded.

“It’s ugly,” Bucky croaked. “I’m ugly.”

“No,” Steve said sternly, because goddammit he wouldn’t let Bucky say and think these awful things about himself. It might be the fact that Bucky had somehow managed to leave a really good impression on Steve this day, or just the fact that Steve generally couldn’t handle people downplaying themselves, that made him speak his next words with so much conviction.

“No, you’re not ugly. It’s part of who you are. Having imperfections is what makes you perfect, it’s what makes you unique and human. There’s no need to hide yourself, when you’re only being human. Aren’t we all?” Steve had had his fair share of struggling with a low self-esteem, and knew better than anyone what it felt like to not love yourself. He wouldn’t, his heart physically couldn’t bear to let Bucky think so little of himself.

“Bucky, listen to me. Everyone around us is scarred, whether physically or mentally. It’s a sign of life; that you’ve lived and are not done doing so. It’s a sign that you’ve survived what you’ve been through, that you’ve experienced things you maybe wish you never had. But, Buck, there’s nothing wrong with having experienced trauma in your life. There’s nothing wrong with being scarred by it. Hell, you should be walking the streets shirtless, showing off that you fucking live.”

Bucky dared to meet Steve’s eyes again, tears in his, and let out the smallest of nervous giggles.

“And if you ask me,” Steve went on, “I think you’re hot as hell.”

A tentative smile appeared on Bucky’s face, while a tear rolled down his perfect cheek. Steve couldn’t help but brush it away with his thumb, stepping the tiniest bit closer.

“I think you’re hot too,” Bucky whispered.

“Now you’re just flattering me, Buck,” Steve whispered back. Steve had accepted looking the way he did years ago, but that didn’t mean he suddenly saw himself as handsome. He knew better than that. “I mean, look at me.”

“I am.”

Steve held his breath.

“You’re just not looking carefully enough. You’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life, Steve. They are bluer than the bluest ocean and brighter than the sun at noon. Your skin glows like that of an angel and then those high cheekbones of yours,” Bucky breathed, while Steve still held his, “they make me want to trace and touch them with my fingers.” Bucky did, and Steve finally let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of Bucky’s tender fingers on his skin.

“And you have no idea what it does to me, how safe it makes me feel, to wrap my arms around your delicate waist.” Bucky instructed that by folding his free arm around Steve, pulling him closer, closer until their thighs were only inches away from touching.

“And let’s not forget,” Steve groaned softly as Bucky’s hand moved down to cup one cheek of his ass, “that tight, perfect ass.”

He closed his eyes for a second, only to be pulled even closer to Bucky – and he definitely felt more than just Bucky’s thighs in that area. He opened his eyes for a small fragment of time, to see Bucky’s hopeful gaze as the latter slowly moved forward.

Steve shut his eyes again, meeting Bucky halfway. He didn’t think about this being his first kiss, he didn’t think about this possibly happening way too soon. He shut down his brain and let the sensations wash over him.

And they surely did.

The first touch of lips was brief, nothing more than a trial, a check in on both parties’ will to participate. A gentle graze of mouths on each other, soft and without hurry. They parted, not leaning far away from each other, staying attached to each other with their foreheads. Steve looked Bucky in the eye, just a second before he moved forward again. Bucky looked too good in the low light, pupils dilated and a perfect glow to his smooth skin.

Steve wanted more, needed more. He locked his lips over Bucky’s, finding purchase at his shoulders as he kissed and touched and grunted softly.

Bucky breathed heavily, still holding Steve’s cheek tenderly with a soft hand.

Steve had never felt so calm in his entire life. Even his most serene moments couldn’t possibly compete with this one; all soft gazes, lingering touches, and the careless, relaxing sound of nature around them.

Steve couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped him when he felt the brush of Bucky’s tongue at his lower lip, after it pushed slightly at the seam, making Steve open his lips. Bucky slipped in his tongue, touching it to Steve's. He let out another one of those uncontrolled sounds of pleasure.

Steve let his fingers graze Bucky’s muscled back, discovering the paths and patterns of soft skin and solid muscle mass. Savouring the feeling of goose bumps on Bucky’s back under his fingertips.

He might be new to this, but things came natural; this – kissing Bucky – felt like second nature to him. So he went on instinct as he slowly started moving his tongue around Bucky’s in a languid battle. He smiled into the kiss when Bucky let out one of those sounds himself.

It encouraged Steve to go a little further, tilting his head ever so slightly to deepen the kiss and continue the circling motions of their touching tongues at a new angle.

He couldn’t deny that the thought of kissing Bucky had crossed his mind more than once these past days, but in no imaginary scenario had it been so good. He couldn’t have known that everything about the created connection between them would ever feel so loving, so sweet and _arousing_.

It helped that the lower half of his body was still below the surface of the cold water, but his dick twitched nonetheless. But even though skinny dipping while camping in the woods with someone you really like would very much suggest it, this wasn’t about sexual attraction and release – at least not only.

Something about the situation made Steve believe it was the beginning of something much more. And you could call him ignorant or naive for having those thoughts – after all he’d only really started to get to know Bucky _two days ago_ – but sue him if he believed in true love and soulmates. And sue him that he dared to let the thought cross his mind, that Bucky might be just the one for him. He had no reason to think so apart from the feeling in his gut and his heart that seemed about to explode, and he took that as plenty of support.

They broke apart eventually, as the lack of oxygen started to get the best of both of them – mostly Steve.

“ _God,_ Steve,” Bucky whispered as Steve let his head fall to Bucky’s scarred shoulder, peppering it with soft kisses just because he could.

“Yeah,” was Steve’s breathless reply.

They stood like that for what seemed like hours, taking in each other’s presence and holding onto each other while listening to the running of water and blowing of the wind against the leaves of the many trees surrounding them.

Without a word, Bucky started lifting hands of water to Steve’s shoulder, rubbing the liquid over his arms and back and that’s when Steve realised that washing themselves had been the very reason they’d ended up here. He let Bucky touch him and wash him, doing the same to Bucky after.

Eventually the heat of the moment disappeared, and the cold of the night hit Steve again, causing him to flinch.

Bucky seemed to have noticed it too, as he said, “How about we get you warmed up, huh?”

“I might be hallucinating, but I believe it’s not just me standing naked in ice cold water, Buck,” Steve huffed, a giddy tone to his voice. The next shiver wasn’t caused by the cold, but instead by the realisation that dawned on him once again; he was standing _naked_ in the water, and so was Bucky. “You should get warmed up too. And I tend to make a really good living blanket,” he said smugly.

“I believe you, but I would still like to put that to a test,” Bucky countered with a smile.

“We can’t deny the importance of scientific research, can we?” Steve said.

“Nope. We got to do what we got to do! You know, for scientific reasons,” Bucky giggled – _giggled_ , _could he get any cuter?_ – as he pulled Steve out of the water and thoughtfully avoided watching Steve’s lower regions as he wrapped the thin blanket around Steve before grabbing a t-shirt of his own to dry himself off with his back to Steve before pulling on some boxers.

They smiled dopily at each other for no reason in particular but to show their comfort and relaxed state of being with each other, and Steve got some boxers of his own. He looked Bucky straight in the eye as he let the blanket wrapped around him fall to the cold ground of the forest. Even though he’d intended to come off as risk-taking and brave at doing it, a nervous blush covered his cheek as Bucky let his eyes roam over his _entirely naked_ body.

Bucky visibly held his breath.

Steve didn’t know why he didn’t just turn around. Somehow it gave him a thrill to tease Bucky like that. But he wouldn’t let it go further than teasing, because he didn’t mean to evoke any…sex. Not that he wouldn’t feel comfortable with it, doing it with Bucky (who even was he? A week back he would have been a tomato thinking about it), but he needed Bucky to take the lead. To guide him and make him feel good and safe, so that Steve knew how to return the favour. But that, that was something for…later to explore.

He put on his boxers and drew himself closer to Bucky who was standing at the opening of the tent with an extended hand and a tentative smile.

“Come here,” he whispered, placing a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips as he pulled him into the tent.

They laid down, Bucky plastered to Steve’s back, face nuzzled in his neck, both covered by the one unzipped sleeping bag. Steve breathed evenly, sinking back into Bucky and enjoying the warmth that the movement provided him. He felt so safe in Bucky’s arms, and Bucky was so kindly providing Steve that safety.

It made Steve wonder why Bucky didn’t share this kind side of him, or any part of him really, with anybody else. Why he felt the need to put up a wall and let nobody break it down, afraid that they would get to see the real him. He hadn’t been hiding just his arm, but himself entirely from the world out there.

The longer Steve thought about it, the less it started to make sense, the more it started to sound so wrong. Why would someone like Bucky, someone who had proven to be entirely too sweet and selfless for this world in all of two days, ever have to hide? Why of all people did he feel the urgency to live his life putting up a façade, when it was more than clear to Steve that people would love to spent time with him?

“Buck?” Steve whispered, not knowing if Bucky had already fallen asleep in the fifteen minutes that had passed after they’d gone to bed.

“Mmm?” came the grunted respond.

Steve stirred in Bucky’s embrace, turning his body around to face him and make eye contact when he spoke next.

“Why do you hide yourself from everybody?” he asked softly. “Why don’t you let people see your true self, when I know for a fact that you’re funny and sweet and kind?”

“I…I don’t know,” Bucky started hesitantly, clearly taken aback by Steve’s question. “Well, I mean, I know why, but I don’t know how to change it,” he said in a small voice.

Steve didn’t push Bucky, just put his hand to Bucky’s and entangled their fingers. If Bucky wanted to continue, he’d listen. If he didn’t, he’d let him sleep and he wouldn’t ask about it in the morning.

But Bucky took in a deep breath and continued his soft talking. “I mentioned the car accident,” he said with a croaked voice. Steve nodded. “It happened four years ago, just before I went to high school. My mom, dad, sister and I were in the car when another car hit us from behind. My mom and dad got away with just a scratch while my sister had more fractured bones than intact ones and ended up in a coma. My arm got stuck somewhere in the mess of two smashed cars and I had a bad concussion, but that wasn’t so bad compared to Becca.” Steve figured his sister was called Becca.

“She woke up after two weeks, thank the Lord, but those were by far the worst two weeks of my life. And something in me changed in those weeks and the time after. I had really bad nightmares, still have sometimes, in which I keep reliving the crash, but this time Becca doesn’t survive. So I started spending all the time I had either with my family - realised any day could be the last - or in the woods, where no cars could possibly remind me of what happened. After a while I started to see a therapist, because I wouldn’t go out anymore, and I didn’t make any friends at school, I guess you noticed that too,” Bucky said. Steve nodded.

“But I wasn’t able to talk about. At that time I didn’t even know why I was behaving the way I did, why I had completely lost the urge to go out and socialise. And somehow, I still haven’t completely regained that urge, but it’s returning bit by bit. But I guess I ruined my chances at school; no one feels like hanging out with a weirdo like me, right?” he said with a bitter laugh.

“If only they knew what they’re missing out on, Buck.”

Bucky went silent for a minute before he whispered, “This is the first time I’ve ever told anybody the entire story.”

Words lacked Steve completely at the confession, knowing fully well that Bucky had just poured his heart into Steve’s hands, trusting him like he hadn’t trusted anybody in four years. It made Steve’s heart swell and his eyes water. He touched his forehead to Bucky’s and whispered against his lips, “Thank you, Buck. Thank you for telling me,” before laying a soft, meaningful kiss on his lips.

“We’re really on the emotional path this night, aren’t we?” Bucky breathed.

“Yeah,” Steve giggled. “But it feels good with you.”

“It does.”

He pressed one more kiss to Bucky’s lips before closing his eyes and drifting off into a tight sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to put this in, considering Bucky's reference to creating fire by flicking his fingers. I just had to. Also because this shows you Chris Evans in just a towel (or whatever that garment may be). Yeah, you're welcome.
> 
>  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter is here! And it's long, cheers to that!
> 
> If you want the first part to be more intense (in a good way), you should play [ SYML - Body ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6tK8EVbK7WdJ4TXhoeaMF9) on repeat while reading. I basically listened to it 50 times while writing and rewriting this chapter.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to all the lovely people who left a kudo or comment!! It makes me incredibly happy :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve stirred awake at the sound of chirping birds and the whistling of the wind through the leaves on the trees that surrounded their tent. He hummed delightedly when his mind began to work and the images of what had happened the night before came back to him in glorious detail; how Bucky had kissed him and how they’d shared their most intimate secrets with each other, but most importantly, how it had felt so _familiar_ to do all those things with Bucky.

He also remembered falling asleep with the other man plastered to his front, his left arm protectively draped over Steve’s petit waist. Steve was the one spooning Bucky at the moment, illogical as it may be. They must both have twisted and turned in their sleep and ended up in this position, Steve figured. Not that he cared much, he was still as close to Bucky as before and that was all he cared about.

Well, that were true if he wasn’t having goddamn morning wood, _being plastered to Bucky_. Out of all mornings, his body had to choose this one to go stiff. He cursed the sheer existence of his dick (only to take it back a second later; he reasoned the thing did make for some pretty pleasurable moments every now and then) at the thought of now being forced out of their improvised bed, instead of pretending to be asleep for a little while longer. He had to, before Bucky got the wrong ideas. Not that Steve had any aversion to the images provided by his brain per se, but-

He let out an involuntary gasp as Bucky suddenly pressed his ass back against Steve’s erection and made a sparkle of absolute bliss course all the way down to his toes.

Steve held his breath as Bucky hummed softly, delightedly and repeated the movement, undulating his hips backwards with just a little more force than the first time. Steve gasped again, only to hold in his breath after. He didn’t dare move away – it felt too good – but he really should, Bucky was clearly still asleep and Steve didn’t want to use him to get off only for Bucky to be disgusted afterwards.

But when he made to move away, an arm suddenly reached behind him, pulling him in with a strong hand on his lower back. The hand travelled down, over the roundness of Steve’s ass and pushed him forward, meeting Bucky halfway and _fuck yes!_

“ _Unh_ , Buck,” he breathed out, already way too hoarse for his liking and suddenly he froze, his own voice having startled him. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel good – _oh God_ it felt more than _good_. But this was a step Steve had never taken before and with everything that is new or things you do for the first time…it’s scary. Exciting, but scary. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to do this with Bucky still asleep.

“Buck,” he whispered again, wiggling under his grasp, ruefully willing himself free. What it mostly did was sent sparks flying off in his crotch again, making him almost lightheaded.

Bucky kept moving, the rolling of his hips now a steady rhythm against the man in his arms. Steve ignored the guttural need to meet Bucky’s backside and give himself more. He tried again, this time a little louder. “Bucky, wake up.”

It took a few seconds before the brunet caught on, but it was overly visible when he did; his soft moaning suddenly stopped and his breathing turned ragged, as if caught in the middle of a sinful act. Which applied pretty well, except that Steve had been enjoying it just as much himself.

Slowly, Bucky let go of Steve’s cheek – Steve praying Bucky hadn’t heard the _whimper_ that slipped his lips at the loss of contact - and moved away, turning around just as slowly. When Steve met Bucky’s eyes, they were full of uncertainty and worry and Steve wouldn’t have any of it. Just couldn’t fathom the thought of Bucky feeling bad about himself for doing…whatever that had just been.

He moved fast – barely registering his movement himself - placing a gentle hand on Bucky’s cheek and laying a proper kiss to his lips, relishing the moment Bucky started kissing him back.

When they broke apart, Steve was a lot more pleased with the expression he found on Bucky’s face. “Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, claiming another kiss.

“Mmm, good morning,” Bucky hummed, connecting their lips once more before creating space between them. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. They were close, their lips still only mere inches away, but no other part of their bodies touching.

A guttural feeling had Steve craving for contact, but he collected himself and asked softly, “For what?”

“You know what,” Bucky said. And yeah, Steve knew, just didn’t want to give Bucky the impression he hadn’t liked it.

“You had a good dream?” Steve couldn’t help but tease. He was such a little shit sometimes.

“Something like that,” Bucky blushed. “I don’t know what came over me, if I’m being honest,” – he averted his eyes with a bashful smile – “but I shouldn’t have done _that_. Moved on you like that.” Steve didn’t know what to say, too confused by his brain yelling at him to tell Bucky that indeed he was wrong for doing that – even though he couldn’t really be blamed, it had been in his sleep – and his gut screaming at him to make whatever had happened continue because it had felt _amazing_.

“I mean, we’re pretty new, you know – I mean, us together,” he waved between them as emphasis. “And I shouldn’t have done that. At least not without asking you first.” _Us together, us together, us together_. Yeah sure, Steve could be casual about that. Totally. He had no idea why his breathing suddenly staggered and his palms began to sweat with anticipation. _Us together_ , holy shit! He couldn’t help repeating the phrase in his head like a mantra and beam like the sun.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Bucky asked, playfully pushing at Steve’s shoulder. “I’m trying to make a genuine apology here and you’re beaming over there like you just won the fucking lottery.”

“Well, didn’t I?” Steve teased.

“What? Steve you’re not making any sense.”

Steve was about to speak when a deep frown appeared between Bucky’s eyebrows, like he’d figured out what Steve was about to say, and grunted, “Oh help the lord. Please don’t say you won the lottery cause you got me now,” he exclaimed, but with laughter to his voice. “Because if you were, you’re such a goddamn sap.”

Steve laughed, but murmured a defensive, “I wasn’t gonna say that!”

“Steven Grant Rogers, don’t lie to me!” Bucky said in an earnest tone, the previous apologetic tension all but forgotten. He wondered how Bucky knew his full name. He didn’t dare ask, because he knew Bucky’s full name too and wouldn’t that make for one hell of an awkward explanation.

(The first time Steve had seen Bucky, something had triggered his interest and he’d done some research, finding out that he was named James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky would tease him to death if he figured out he’d interested Steve since day one.)

“I would never!” Steve laughed. Bucky pushed at his shoulder again, but Steve wasn’t one to shy away from a fight and sat up to push right back. The motion made Bucky roll back and made the sleeping bag they shared fall back to Bucky’s navel. A significant part of Bucky’s toned stomach was now on full display and Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away from the skin. With a shiver he was reminded of the still searing and _untouched_ hard-on he was sporting.

He needed something, anything.

He collected all his courage and ignored the screeching alarms and bells telling him to stop. But fuck wisdom, sometimes you shouldn’t listen to your brain and listen to your heart instead. And your dick, apparently.

The speed of Steve’s breathing took up a notch as he let his eyes roam over Bucky’s half-naked body while slowly putting his hand to his own chest and making it move south. He saw Bucky watch him with wide eyes, obsessively following every motion of Steve’s nimble fingers over his torso, holding his breath. And that alone gave Steve enough courage to go on. He moved his hand lower and lower, until his fingertips grazed the elastic band of his boxer shorts. He didn’t look at Bucky when he finally moved his hand over his crotch, rubbing at his erection the way he knew would have him trembling in seconds, contently sighing into the touch. If the muffled moan Bucky let out was any indication, Steve figured it had the same effect on him.

He knew he was being straightforward - it just felt too amazing to stop. But before Steve could really build up the pleasure he so desperately needed, Bucky shifted, moving fast, throwing a leg over Steve’s hip and straddling him in one swift motion. Steve couldn’t help the sound that erupted from somewhere deep in his throat and involuntarily thrust up his hips to meet Bucky’s ass.

Bucky put one hand to Steve’s hip, pushing him down and leaned forward, mere inches away from Steve’s lips, the latter already closing his eyes to savour the oncoming kiss. But Steve abruptly opened them again when nothing touched his lips, but his earlobe instead. Just a sliver of a touch, a graze of lips against skin. And then the whisper, “Easy there, _Stevie_.”

And _oh shit, holy mother of god_. If Bucky hadn’t been pressing Steve down, he was sure he would be thrusting again and shoot of his load before anything had really happened.

“We don’t want to rush into anything,” Bucky said softly again, this time meeting Steve’s eyes. Steve saw the genuine concern there again, just like minutes before. Bucky was probably right, they shouldn’t rush into anything that either one of them didn’t feel comfortable with. But that was exactly the thing, Steve _did_ feel comfortable. Sure, these moments in between, when his brain was able to operate properly without being too distracted, he was scared out of his damn mind. But he wasn’t afraid of Bucky, or Bucky possibly overstepping or doing something he didn’t like; no, he trusted Bucky enough not to worry about that. But just the general thought – doing it for the first time – it carried a certain weight; an undeniable connotation that felt heavy on Steve’s shoulders.

He’d imagined it often enough and never thought it would possibly happen this early, but he’d always been one of those people who valued a first time that would be worth remembering and in which both parties had been willing and wanting.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asked, sensing Steve’s internal conflict.

Steve nodded but didn’t wait for Bucky to ask any other questions and thought _to hell with it_. He couldn’t help himself from kissing Bucky when the latter looked at him like that; so caring and worried. He just needed to prove that he was doing more than _okay_.

Bucky seemed to take that as a good enough answer, gently pushing him until he laid down on his back, Bucky still straddling his hips – and now painfully hard erection – hovering over his small body with lust and conviction in his eyes. He let his hands rest on Steve’s chest while leaning forward to meet Steve’s lips in a soaring kiss.

Steve quickly deepened the kiss, enjoying the surprised sounds that fell from Bucky’s mouth. He pushed his tongue in and met Bucky’s halfway, lavishing each other’s mouths while hands moved over heated skin.

Steve wasn’t wearing more than some boxers – Bucky’s heat had kept him warm that night – and felt every touch of Bucky’s hands over his naked skin. The gentle dragging of rough fingertips over sensitive flesh felt mesmerizingly glorious.

Steve’s hands moved of their own accord, needing to feel the man atop him. They moved up his arms, just like they had done the night before, over his shoulders – Bucky trembled slightly when they grazed scarred tissue, Steve caressed the skin a second longer and moved on. To his neck and then down, all the while tasting Bucky, absorbing his little moans and Bucky doing the same to Steve.

In synchrony, both men moved their hands to each other’s chests, Bucky’s broad and muscular on Steve’s small hands; Steve’s tiny under Bucky’s.

Bucky broke away for a second to pant, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Steve took Bucky’s word for once, having much more pressing things on his mind than arguing with the man he wanted to do wicked things to. Bucky leaned down and moved his mouth to Steve’s neck, sucking a trail along his jaw and kissing the abused skin. Steve squirmed under him, looking for the friction Bucky would grant him. But the man on top was relentless, his hand on Steve’s hip not giving him an inch of movement.

Steve moved his hands over Bucky’s pecs, absolutely _loving_ the solid feel of the trained muscle and let his thumb lightly pass over a taut nipple. He didn’t expect Bucky to hiss next to his ear and thrust down, rubbing their clothed dicks together.

“ _Jesus_ , Steve,” he breathed and Steve grunted in response. _Yeah_ , he needed Bucky to do that again.

He took the sensitive nub between his fingers and squeezed and truthfully, Bucky lost control again, grinding down against Steve.

“Is that how you want to play this, huh?” Bucky breathed against Steve’s lips, still holding his hips down with that goddamn hand. “Because two can play that game.” Before Steve could register what was going on, Bucky’s mouth was suddenly on his chest, peppering it with kisses and onward to an obvious destination. Steve held his breath as Bucky’s lips moved around his nipple, sucking and biting down and Steve needed _some fucking friction_. He moaned aloud, completely losing his breath while Bucky abused his skin.

Bucky played with the tiny nub until it was completely hard. Sucking on it before moving on to the other one, sucking, nibbling and experimentally grazing his teeth down on the pert nipple. And Steve let him. Because _fuck_ that felt good.

He threw his head back when Bucky _finally_ started moving his hips again.

“Ah, _Buck_ , yes!”

When Bucky met Steve’s eyes again, he spoke, his voice rougher than before. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“If that’s anything to go by,” he pointed towards Bucky’s crotch, his hardened length pressing up against the tight fabric of his boxers, a wet patch of precome growing bigger with the minute, “I have a pretty good idea.”

“You’re one to talk,” Bucky shot back as he let his hand ghost over Steve’s crotch. He looked at Steve for permission – which Steve granted him with a needy moan – and cupped Steve’s dick through the fabric.

Steve knew for sure now: Bucky would be the death of him. A glorious, delicious death.

Bucky dived right back into another kiss while rubbing Steve’s length in a steady and head-spinning rhythm, now that he had Steve’s consent. And Steve saw stars; so many sensation colliding, caressing his body, his mind in so many good ways he couldn’t do anything other than follow Bucky’s lead in the kiss and occasionally give a thrust of his own into Bucky’s hand.

They continued their frantic making out while Bucky took hold of Steve’s hand with his unoccupied one, slowly guiding it towards his inner thigh. Steve broke away to look down at the position of his hand and then to Bucky as he trembled with anticipation. But there was an anxious feeling lingering too. He had no idea what Bucky liked. He only had the way he liked to touch himself as reference. What if he completely ruined it by touching Bucky the wrong way? What if-?

Bucky gave a reassuring smile when he covered Steve’s hand with his own again – never faltering the rubbing over Steve’s boxers – and slowly guided their connected hands over his erect dick. Steve revelled at Bucky’s hardness under his skin – Bucky was hard _for him_ , because of _him_ – and the way the other man threw his head back and let out a shaky breath when Steve squeezed lightly.

“Nnh, feels good,” Bucky muttered as he leaned forward again to gently tug on Steve’s lower lip with his teeth. “So good.”

They spent minutes making out, breathing into each other’s mouths while rubbing each other’s cocks until they were both gasping and moaning.

It took Steve a second to catch on when Bucky’s hand stopped moving – he was so far gone; so absorbed in kissing Bucky, the sensations all over his body. He looked down to find Bucky’s hand linger over the waistband of his boxers and he took in a quick breath of air.

Bucky’s fingers curled around the elastic, moving the fabric down an inch before looking up at Steve with pleading eyes. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, a nervous shiver running down his spine. Too many thoughts crossed his mind – _What if Bucky didn’t like how he looked? No, he wouldn’t judge, right? Would he? Is this a good idea at all? Yeah, it feels good. But I’ve only known him for a couple of days…_ \- but Bucky’s soft and soothing words were enough to take away his worry as his boxers were removed inch by agonizing inch.

“You’re so beautiful. Made out of fucking stardust,” Bucky murmured as he pulled the last garment covering Steve’s body over his feet and threw it to the side, focusing back on Steve’s now completely naked body.

He took his time roaming his eyes over the body splayed in front of him and Steve couldn’t stop himself from blushing at the attention he wasn’t used to getting. He wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. It was something he might have to get used to, and in some twisted way that made his heart swell with joy. After all, isn’t having the desire to be appreciated and admired a trait every human being possesses?

Bucky started peppering light kisses to Steve’s leg, a long line of a moist trail up his calf, over his knee, over his thigh, coming closer and closer and closer to where Steve wanted him most. He held his breath in nervous anticipation, letting out an annoyed grunt as Bucky gave his priority to first giving his second leg the same treatment the other had gotten, covering it in kisses too.

Steve couldn’t do anything other than give his body to Bucky and lay back, savouring whatever the other man was willing to give him. He closed his eyes, focussing solely on the sensations, the tingling of lips against his heated skin. But Bucky didn’t move fast enough to Steve’s liking, letting the ever-growing tension of desire hang above them like a heavy cloud, ready to start pouring down endless streams of water any second, but never knowing exactly when.

He needed something to happen, for them to move, touch more, anything. He grabbed at Bucky’s arm, urging him closer, pulling at him until he could capture Bucky’s mouth with his and Bucky was feeling just as good, if not better due to the lack of one intruding layer of fabric.

Steve's hands went to Bucky’s waistband, pushing it down as far as it would go in their position, which to Steve’s frustration wasn’t far enough. “Need you, Buck,” he grunted.

“I got you. Don’t worry, I got you,” he whispered as he pecked one more kiss to Steve’s lips before sitting and making a show of pulling of his underwear. Steve was sure it had the effect on him Bucky was going for. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Bucky discarded the small piece of fabric in the general direction where Steve’s had been sent off earlier and gave Steve a lop-sided smile as he was now on full display too, naked to the bone.

Steve felt it was his turn to reassure Bucky, and who wouldn’t want to tell Bucky a thousand times he was by far the most beautiful living being on the goddamn planet?

“Jesus,” Steve sighed as his hands fell back to Bucky’s muscular chest, “how can you be so perfect?” Bucky was _hung_ , but perfectly in proportion to the rest of his body and just as astoundingly beautiful as the rest.

Bucky chuckled and moved up Steve’s legs, until their hips were connected. Without warning, he launched forward to meet Steve’s lips in a searing kiss as their now naked erections rubbed together.

“So good,” Bucky muttered and Steve hummed in agreement, but he was greedy for more.

As if Bucky was reading his mind, his hand crept down again, making its way over Steve’s chest, his stomach, following the small line of blonde hair that lead to his dick. Bucky forced his tongue into Steve’s mouth while he closed his hand around the latter’s hard length, immediately swallowing the moan that left Steve’s mouth at the utter ecstasy caused by the touch.

Bucky gave an experimental tug and it was too much and not nearly enough. Bucky twisted his wrist just so and Steve couldn’t help the rambling when Bucky moved onto licking a line along the length of his neck.

“More, Buck. Please, give me _more._ ”

Much to Steve’s frustration, Bucky _slowed down_ his hand instead. He pressed another kiss to Steve’s lips before breaking away.

“Do you want me to…?” Bucky asked, nerves shining through. He didn’t finish the sentence, but Steve didn’t need him to, to understand what he was suggesting.

“Yes,” he breathed without thinking through his answer. He needed some fucking release _yesterday_.

“Are you one hundred percent certain?” Bucky asked in all sincerity, completely stopping his ministrations and looking penetratingly into Steve’s dark, hooded eyes. Bucky’s eyes weren’t off much better; they were dilated _as fuck_. The beautiful greyish blue of his irises absorbed by the expanded darkness of his pupils.

Steve momentarily put all his effort into seriously giving Bucky’s question a good thought – because that was what was asked of him. He tried to let his heart speak out on this one. He and Bucky hadn’t exactly started off well, but it hadn’t taken much to make up eventually and they’d only had a good time after that. Steve really fucking liked Bucky; he found him funny, caring, smart and sexy as hell and his heart physically swelled – if that was even possible – at the idea of him and Bucky spending this moment together.

The only obstacle holding him back, was the fact that they’d only really met two days ago. Well, time was only relative, so screw that. Or screw Steve, preferably.

So, he repeated his initial answer, and Bucky smiled warily at him, kissing him on the nose before moving off of Steve slightly.

That’s when Steve realised this was really happening – and not just in his imagination – and they needed…supplies. He looked at Bucky with a crease between his eyebrows and was about to say something along the lines of _I didn’t bring anything_ when Bucky whispered, “I got it.”

He reached towards the bag that was shoved into the side of the tent by their hurried movement, and took out a bottle of lube.

Steve wanted to ask what the brunet had initially planned on doing with the liquid – Mr. Lang’s words echoed through his head, _No sex this week! Same goes for masturbation…_ Yeah, scratch that, this was happening. Guess Steve was just a rebel at heart – but instead, he let it slide. But when Bucky took out a condom next, he couldn’t help giving in to the alarming questions popping up in his mind.

“Why’d you bring condoms?”

“We’re not doing this unprotected, Steve.”

“No, I mean,” Steve looked over Bucky’s shoulder when he spoke his next words. They sounded off, not at all like something Bucky would do, but he _had_ to know. “Were you…planning on this?”

“On getting lost and having sex with the most beautiful man alive?” Bucky deadpanned. “No, not exactly.” Steve put his best efforts into hiding the heavy blush that he was sure covered his cheeks at the compliment, but Bucky put a finger under his chin, urging him to meet his eye. His tone was suddenly completely serious. “I guess I took them without thinking. And for your information, I don’t go around banging every attractive guy I come across. And this is my first time in a tent too. So, no, not planned.”

That sounded…solid and Steve figured this was as good a time as any for him to say it. If he wanted Bucky to know – which he did – he had to tell him now. “It’s- uhm…not just my first time in a _tent_ , if you know what I mean,” he said softly, averting his eyes to somewhere behind the man on top of him.

Bucky nodded, a sweet smile covering his face. Steve had no idea if that meant Bucky had understood what he’d insinuated. So without thinking about it any longer he blurted out, “I’m a virgin.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t change. He was still wearing that adorable smile and whispered, “I figured.”

Steve’s expression must have been one of confusion, as Bucky continued quickly. “I figured, because with every next step we take, you tense up.” Steve was about to apologize and look away again, but Bucky stopped him from doing both, taking his chin between his thumb and index finger again and pressing a soft kiss against his lips before inching backwards to speak. He cupped Steve’s jaw with gentle fingers and rubbed a thumb reassuringly along the skin.

“Don’t apologize. It’s a normal reaction. People become nervous when they have to take on something that has value to them and they want to do properly. Well, if that’s the case with you, that’s only an honour to me, right?”

“I guess so,” Steve hummed against Bucky’s lips.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t like something I’m doing, if you don’t feel comfortable anymore and want to stop, you have to tell me, okay?”

“Okay. I trust you Buck.” And that was all the encouragement Bucky needed to silently move back down over Steve’s legs and sit up. He put his hands to Steve’s thighs, applying the smallest pressure outwards, urging Steve’s limbs apart, exposing him completely. Steve didn’t register the sound of a bottle opening, the sound of liquid being squirted into Bucky’s hands, not knowing where heated skin ended and hot air began.

Bucky bent forward, laying kisses on areas on the inside of Steve’s thighs he hadn’t dared to come before, throwing out little words of endearment every once in a while and Steve just laid there, letting Bucky guide him through it. Letting the man he instinctively trusted with his gut – even after such a relatively short time really spent together – make him feel good and having the hope that he’d be able to somehow return that favour. And people would call him crazy if he’d tell them how much he trusted Bucky, and all Steve would be able to counter with is “Us, it feels good,” and right now, that was more than enough for him.

Steve’s arousal was thick, his breathing no longer in control – though this felt so much different than having an asthma attack – his body quivering and shaking as Bucky slowly brought a hand to Steve’s ass, giving a playful little squeeze before moving inwards, between his cheeks.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve gasped as he felt a single finger rub against his most intimate spot, circle around it to get the liquid warm and then slowly, so slowly and carefully push in past the tight ring of muscle.

“You’re doing so well, Stevie.”

At first it didn’t feel good, the stretch an uneasy burn, but the longer Bucky kept applying the same amount of pressure, the more it started to shift from the edge of painful to slightly pleasurable. Steve tried his best to calm himself down, to relax his body under Bucky’s touch, but suddenly tensed up when he felt teeth carving into the flesh on his hip, not hard enough to leave a mark, but certainly with enough force to erupt a shriek form Steve’s mouth.

“Good, you’re still with me,” Bucky giggled.

“Is that how you always check up on people?” Steve managed to speak, the humour completely lost at the hoarseness of his airy voice. “Not sure that’s socially acceptable, Mr. Barnes. _Oh god…_ ” Bucky teased his finger in a little further at the end of Steve’s sentence and looked up at him with a devilish grin.

“Nah,” Bucky responded. “You just tend to bring out that side of me.”

Steve didn’t get the chance to ask whether that was a good or bad thing, as Bucky suddenly pushed his finger all the way into Steve’s body, making hot pleasure shot through him. He must have judged Steve’s efforts of relaxing sufficient to apply more pressure.

“Guess I’m not doing a good enough job when you still have that mouth on you, _Mr. Rogers_ ,” Bucky said with a heavy tone of voice.

Steve went pliant as that initial finger started to slowly drag out of him, only to be pumped back a second later, faster and more powerfully now that the initial pain had ceased. A minute - it could have been an hour later; Steve lost all sense of time – Bucky added a second digit forcing him to relax even more, to give himself over to Bucky and Bucky only.

Bucky encouraged him through it, whispering soft, sweet words that Steve thrived off, next to Bucky laying on top of him completely _naked_ , prepping him for his first time.

Bucky was dragging his two fingers out of Steve’s little body just as carefully as he’d done during the first minutes of the initial finger, but Steve was already thinking steps ahead.

He arched his back while moaning loudly as the movement pushed his ass down onto Bucky’s fingers. But when he tried to do it again, to seek out more pleasure, Bucky suddenly splayed a hand onto Steve’s stomach and pushed his hips flush to the cold ground. “Take it easy. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Come on, Buck. You’re not gonna break me.”

“So little faith in me,” Bucky huffed, but listened to Steve’s request regardless. He started pushing in with more force while still forcing Steve down. Well at least Steve got something.

They were kissing again, deep passionate kisses, when Bucky added a third finger and Steve loved it. Loved the feeling so much, soon enough he was begging for more. “Come on, Buck. I’m ready.”

Bucky didn’t wait too long this time – it made Steve feel smug to think that maybe Bucky was a little needy too. He pulled away, tore the condom package open from between his teeth (leave it to Bucky to look unimaginably hot doing so) and rolled it on his hard dick with ease.

Steve was panting, so ready and yet so unprepared, having no idea what it would feel like to be physically connected to Bucky so closely, but so eager to find out, to experience it.

Like a last reassurance, Bucky ran a hand through Steve’s hair, rubbing a thumb over Steve’s flushed cheek before lining up. Bucky took Steve’s hands in his and put them next to Steve’s head and pushed in, just as slowly as his first finger. Steve moaned, couldn’t help his sensations from taking control of his mind as he fought against the burn of the uneasy stretch and the overwhelming _pleasure_ the big intrusion brought on. He uncontrollably squeezed his hands around Bucky’s.

“ _Ah_ , Buck.”

“You feel so good, Stevie,” Bucky said, slightly out of breath himself. “So fucking _tight,_ _mmph_ …”

He bottomed out and waited, giving Steve a minute to get used to the intrusion and to kiss Steve’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose and then his lips again. He probably also took this time to keep himself under control as to not come already surrounded by Steve’s achingly tight walls.

“You can move,” Steve managed, and Bucky did, building up a slow rhythm, dragging out and pushing back in with the slightest more force, pushing the air out of Steve’s lungs every time.

Without him consciously processing it, he was biting down on his lower lip with such force the skin might break if he kept it up. Bucky reached out a thumb to tug at his lip and carelessly ran his digit along the plush and red skin.

“Relax.”

Steve didn’t understand how he had gotten here; in such an explosion of infinite pleasure and desire and the only thing on his mind _Bucky, Bucky, Bucky_. He didn’t know how something – the drag of Bucky inside of him, buried deep – could feel so incredible. So incredibly amazing. His entire body tingled delightedly, his heart beat thudding in his abused lips, a pressure building up in the pit of his stomach, highlighting the feeling of utter pleasure.

Bucky sped up, his movements becoming more uncontrolled and frantic, his thrusts becoming deeper with every move. He shifted slightly and hit home again and Steve let out the loudest moan so far. He knew enough of the human anatomy to know that Bucky just hit his prostate, and he needed him to do it again.

Steve immediately hooked his legs around Bucky’s hips, urging the latter closer and _deeper_ , making him aim for that bundle of nerves deep inside Steve that had him screaming in seconds. He even went as far as to bend forward as much as their tangled limbs would allow and replace Bucky’s hands for his delicious round ass, to knead and push Bucky like Steve wanted him to.

Bucky’s breathing was irregular, letting out puffs of air against Steve’s face, mixed up with breathy moans. “Oh God _, yes,_ ah _, Steve_ ,” he murmured incoherently as he grabbed Steve’s hips with both his hands on each side, granting himself more leverage while pushing in hard and deep.

Steve knew he was getting close, the pressure boiling low, getting more pressing with the second, his body breaking a sweat as Bucky kept pounding into him in a relentless rhythm and it felt so good, too good. “Buck, I’m close,” he panted and the way Bucky kissed him could only be described as downright filthy.

He never slowed his rhythm, only sped up and repeatedly hit the sweet spot inside Steve that overwhelmed him with bliss. Bucky curled a hand around Steve’s length and started a quick and sloppy rhythm of strokes up and down his leaking cock and the stimuli all over his body were too fucking much.

The only sounds he managed to make were the shallow quick _ah ah ah_ 's in synchrony to Bucky’s thrusts.

“You look so fucking hot right now,” Bucky breathed. Steve’s eyes were closed, so he didn’t get the chance to say it back but there was no single doubt on his mind that Bucky looked absolutely breathtaking above him.

Suddenly there were lips nibbling at his earlobe again. And then, “Come for me, gorgeous.”

He sucked in a sharp breath at the command and came with a cry as Bucky hit home again, his dick pulsing and finally getting the release it had been demanding for such a long time now. He clamped down on Bucky’s dick and dug his fingers into the older boy’s back with such force there were certainly going to form bruises. Everything blurred together. A magic melange of colour and black and white; sound and silence; darkness and light as he drifted off into an addictive oblivion.

Steve forced his heavy eyes half open as Bucky continued pounding into him. He thrusted in once, twice, until somewhere over the sounds of his own frantically beating heart, he heard the sounds of Bucky’s deep groans. Through hazy eyes and the faded darkness of half-closed eyelid, he witnessed Bucky arching his back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and letting it fall back with a moan and a hoarse whisper of his name.

He collapsed onto Steve, somewhat ungracefully holding himself up as not to crush the man under him and lived off the rest of his orgasm while Steve observed him closely, entranced by his beauty and perfection.

He rested their foreheads together, sharing the same breath as Bucky mumbled incoherent little words of endearment. Bucky folded his arms around Bucky’s waist, holding the other man close while he tried to catch his breath, which was still erratic.

Bucky was the first to speak. “That was… incredible.”

“Even that’s an understatement,” Steve huffed, his face beaming like a small child at Christmas Eve, but he couldn’t care less what he looked like right now.

“Mmm,” Bucky said, putting on his best thinking face, “let’s see what else I got then. How about inconceivable? Magical? Body-wrecking, in a good way of course,” he said, pecking Steve’s torso. He continued listing off superlatives. “Unbelievable, amazing, phenomenal, ground-breaking, perfect.”

“Oh, get lost,” Steve laughed, the shifting reminding him of Bucky still buried inside him.

“I did that. I’m pretty satisfied with where that took me,” Bucky shrugged. As emphasis he rolled his hips forward just an inch, bringing back that hot fire inside Steve, only to carefully pull out instead, leaving Steve feeling oddly empty. He tied up the condom and tossed it to the side.

Bucky rolled to his back and let out a deep sigh. “I really like you, Steve.”

“Wow, sounds like it’s a fucking burden to you when you say it like that,” Steve laughed, but he knew his words couldn’t deviate more from the actual truth. “For good measure, I really like you too, Buck.”

“Damn right. Who doesn’t like me?” Bucky said playfully.

Steve swatted him. “You’re the absolute worst.”

“Yeah, yeah. Have you already forgotten who made you lose all senses mere minutes ago? Well, to clarify, c’etait moi,” he gestured with a hand to his own chest, while beaming the widest grin.

And well, what could Steve say to that? Bucky did have a point. He smiled dopily at the man beside him and relaxed at the peacefulness that once again filled the atmosphere.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Bucky said out of nowhere.

“What?” Before he knew what was happening he was lifted up and carried out of the small tent, thrown over Bucky’s strong shoulder with his head at the height of Bucky’s lower back.

“You have _got_ to stop doing that!” Steve yelled in hysteria, trying to be serious. But the giggle that came out when Bucky swatted his ass and carried him towards the river side didn’t exactly help on the coming across as serious part.

“I _said_ , let’s get you cleaned up.”

To Steve’s surprise, Bucky didn’t throw him in the water like he’d expected him to do. Instead, he was slowly put down to his feet, Bucky holding on to him until he regained balance. Steve was facing Bucky with patience, while the latter started collecting handfuls of water, lifting them and letting the liquid tickle down Steve’s belly, removing what traces of come were left there.

He touched and cleaned every inch of Steve’s skin thoroughly, letting his fingers run over them and rubbing soothing circles.

“Turn around, Steve,” Bucky murmured, and Steve did as he was asked, turning 180 degrees, facing away from Bucky.

Steve was so into Bucky touching him with such care, that he didn’t see it coming when strong hands suddenly folded around his waist. Before he knew what was happening, those arms lifted him up and threw him deeper into the water.

 _Bucky really needed to fucking stop take advantage Steve’s slender body and his own strength._ Steve ignored whatever stupid part of his brain told him he absolutely _loved_ being manhandled by Bucky. He was trying to make a point here, okay?

Steve spit out a gulp of water when another wave hit his face, Bucky smirking sinfully behind it.

“You punk!” Steve cursed, rising to his feet and throwing as much water in Bucky’s direction as he could manage with his small hands. He laughed as Bucky got delved in the liquid, his skin completely soaked.

Bucky just laughed in response, urging Steve to make him even wetter, while strolling closer and closer to the smaller man. Steve started using his legs now too, frantically moving around to win this fight from Bucky.

But he should have known better.

Bucky forced his way straight through Steve’s wall of splashing water and wrapped his arms around his waist again. And this time, Steve _did_ see it coming when he was thrown away again and could only let it happen and laugh at the thought of how incredibly careless this all was.

Casually playing in the water like they were kids, while in society, they were all so early on in their lives forced to grow up, to lose all playfulness. This, carelessly spending time with Bucky after something so intense as having sex for the first time? Steve couldn’t have possibly wished for a better place to be right at that moment.

But he wasn’t one to give up the fight. And when you’re not stronger than your enemy, you should outsmart them.

Steve got up and turned towards Bucky slowly, making sure he not so casually dragged his wet hair out of his face with his hand, letting multiple droplets dribble down his skin. He stepped closer and closer, and to Steve’s delight, Bucky had already stopped throwing water his way and had started breathing the tiniest bit heavier.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve said, putting extra air into his voice to make him sound out of breath and slightly hoarse. “You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

He stepped in closer, now only a few inches of air separating their bodies. Bucky mumbled something incoherent – something like “Nah, too beautiful,” – while Steve lifted his hands to Bucky’s chest, squeezing his pecs lightly – squeezing a nipple while he was at it - and whispering in his ear, “I can’t either.”

Bucky’s body shivered and he let out a shaky breath, which Steve deemed the perfect moment to throw himself at Bucky, making the other man lose his balance and stumble down into the water.

They were both laughing as they reached the surface again.

“You’re such a jerk,” Bucky said, shaking his head.

“Just don’t ever underestimate me,” Steve shrugged in response.

“Lesson well-learned.”

They stayed like that for a moment, sitting in the shallow river, carelessly grazing each other’s hands while absorbing the calming sounds and sight of nature surrounding them.

“I never thought a school trip could be so nice,” Bucky whispered.

“And then to imagine I almost wouldn’t have come.”

“How so?” Bucky asked, facing Steve.

“My mom didn’t want me to go,” Steve started. “She’s always so afraid of me getting hurt. And it freaks her out even more when she’s not there to take care of me when something does happen. Which is _rare_ ,” Steve was quick to add.

“You did have a pretty severe asthma attack on me the first night, buddy,” Bucky said, a serious tone to his voice. “And another one the afternoon before that.”

“I have medication for that,” Steve shrugged, “just couldn’t find it that night. Anyway, I get why my mom is scared. If she’d be as weak and had such a bad immune system as me, I would be at her side as much as possible too. And I think of all people, you know how it feels to lose a loved one,” Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand, “and I think my mom is constantly fearing that she will have that feeling one day. But I deserve to live my life too, you know. I deserve to be reckless every once in a while, because I’m way too young not to. And I’m sure as hell not planning on dying on my ma,” he finished with a soft smile.

“Nah, you’re way too stubborn for that,” Bucky said, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s.

“That just got sad real quickly,” Steve said, laughing a little nervously. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s good that you want to share it with me, though,” Bucky said softly.

Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek in his hand and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Bucky’s lips. “Well, thank you for listening.”

“Anytime.”

Steve laughed and Bucky looked up, “What?”

“You’re going to regret saying that, you know. I tend to be the talkative type.”

“Try me.”

“The honour would be all mine.”

 

After another couple of minutes, the both of them started to tremble slightly due to the cold water around them, and made their ways to the tent, holding hands and both smiling dopily. Steve let Bucky dry him with the t-shirt they’d dubbed a towel for the time being. Bucky made sure not to miss an inch of Steve’s skin as he ridded his body of the water, dragging the soft fabric everywhere, making Steve shiver with the sheer dedication and anticipation of it.

When Steve was dry, he gave Bucky the same treatment as they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Only the sounds of chirping birds, the rustling of the soft breeze through the forest, and in the back the running of shallow water. Then the breathing of the man in front of Steve, his own breathing and the slow drag of fabric against wet skin.

Steve loved the city, it was his home, his safe haven, but it never managed to calm him down so deeply and intensely as the mere sound and silence of nature. Everything about this gave him a sense of satisfaction, a feeling of contentment and bone-deep happiness. And it seemed so exaggerated, three days out in nature with someone he didn’t even know those three days back, and yet, somehow, Bucky had managed to make something inside of him change, relax, calm down. Together, they managed to take a hold of the ever-present stress and pressure of daily life and turn it off for their time together. It was an indescribable sensation, something beyond comprehension for outsiders, maybe even for Bucky, but Steve felt better than ever.

The silence was broken by the aggressive rumble of Steve’s stomach.

“Guess we should make breakfast, huh?” Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, perhaps we should,” Steve agreed, and then remembered they hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon.

They got dressed and went to cleaning up the mess they managed to make the night before while Bucky went to work on a small campfire to make breakfast. After breakfast, both men climbed back into the small confinements of the tent to put the last things back in their bags.

“It may just be me, but I seriously have to remind myself several times a day that we’re lost and kind of in trouble if we don’t find other people soon,” Bucky said with a chuckle.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I really liked these past days. It’s been really nice,” he smiled. “Well, of course that was after you stopped being a complete jerk,” he said with a teasing smile.

“ _Rogers_ ,” Bucky said with an earnest tone, lifting a threatening finger, as to warn Steve not to speak another word.

Steve smirked evilly while deliberately saying his next words. “Guess you managed to be less of a jerk, but you never stopped being a pain in the ass… quite literally.”

“You did not just say that! Here I thought Steve Rogers was the decent nerd,” Bucky laughed. “Couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Steve tried to come up with words to protest, but figured Bucky was right: everyone who really knew him, knew he was actually a really stubborn piece of shit who wouldn’t take no for an answer and was not that decent at all. Much to Sarah’s disapproval.

“I like this version of you better anyway.”

“You don’t like polite, nerdy Steve?” Steve asked, mock hurt to his voice.

“Bit boring,” Bucky shrugged, his eyes gleaming teasingly.

Steve decided to play along. He jumped up and into Bucky’s lap, pinning his back to the cold ground with his chest, leaning in close to Bucky’s face and whispering, “Take that back. I am _never_ boring.”

When Bucky didn’t respond immediately, Steve gave a torturous role of his hips that made Bucky gasp, as to prove his point and tried again.

“ _Say it_ , Barnes.”

Bucky gasped again, grunting slightly under Steve’s teasing grinding, but finally managed to bring out some words. “Sorry, baby. You are amazing, most amazing person I’ve ever met. Beyond compare. Never seen anything quite like you. You’re miraculous, perfect, beautiful, and above all, not boring.”

And Steve knew Bucky was playing games with him now, exaggerating everything with that evil smirk of his. But he didn’t feel the urge to argue some more, still stuck with what Bucky had just called him – _baby_ – and couldn’t help himself when he launched forward and sealed his lips over Bucky’s.

The kiss made Steve dizzy, and judging by the sounds Bucky made, and the growing erection under Steve’s ass, it had the same effect on him. Maybe Steve’s second time wasn’t going to be that far away.

They kissed for minutes, maybe hours and were so enthralled by only each other they didn’t hear the sounds around their improvised camp. They didn’t hear the tent zipper slowly being opened and didn’t hear it when people called out around them.

“Excuse me, boys,” said the polite voice of Peggy and Steve couldn’t have possibly jumped off Bucky any faster, facing his teacher with bright red cheeks. One quick glance sideways told him Bucky was feeling equally embarrassed. The red blush to his cheeks made him look cute. _Stop that, Rogers. Not right now._

“I- uhm…we-” he stumbled over his words.

“Before I say anything else, are you in any way injured or in immediate need of medical attention?” she payed extra attention to Steve while asking. When the two boys both shook their heads, she continued. “As your teacher, I should probably give you a speech about how reckless you have been and scold you two boys about what you have been…doing,” she trailed off for a second, waving her neatly manicured hand in a vague gesture in their general direction. Steve didn’t miss the whispered “More like _who_ I’ve been doing,” coming from Bucky. He gave him a not so subtle swat with the back of his hand and grinned at the grunt of pain coming from the hurt man.

“But there’s no doubt you two are going to have to explain the story in every glorious detail.” Steve and Bucky looked at each other with a nervous smile, while Peggy cleared her throat with a smirk of her own. “Well, maybe not _every_ detail. My point, the principle is going to want to hear the story, and so are your classmates and parents. So I’m going to spare you my speech and am only going to say how relieved I am to have finally found you and to see you’re in good health. You two have had us all worried out of our minds.”

Bucky must have noticed the way Steve had tensed up at the words his teacher had spoken, causing an extreme sense of guilt to wash over him. Bucky’s hand was suddenly over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Sure, they hadn’t exactly voluntarily gotten themselves lost, far from it, and they had tried to get back to the camp, yes. But just like they had confessed only tens of minutes earlier, neither of them had actually worried much about being here together, away from the group. Neither of them had – from the second day on – really, truly worried about how it might have affected the group and how their little adventure had most definitely corrupted the school trip for the entire class. And worst of all – and Steve really hated himself for this – he hadn’t given his friends and, most importantly, mom a second thought; after he and Bucky had connected he’d been too occupied by him, only _him_ , to feel miserable about the despair and worry his friends and family must have found themselves in.

He totally missed Peggy telling them they would get a minute to collect their things before the police would talk to them – they had been lost for two whole days after all, it was more than logical help troops had been called in.

He was brought back to the here and now by the graze of fingers to his cheek, a whisper next to him. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes, of course,” Steve managed. But Bucky looked straight through his demeanour and caught up on his act.

He gave Steve a pointed look, and spoke, “Steve, come on. I know something is wrong. You’re trembling and your breathing has fastened. Talk to me.”

Steve looked down at himself, and Bucky was right. His hands were trembling where they laid in his lap, and when he focussed at the rising and falling of his chest, it was indeed faster than it was supposed to be. It surprised himself sometimes, how his body always reacted so intensely to sudden experienced emotions.

“It’s just…I only just realised that people – our classmates, my friends, my mom – must have been so worried while I was having the best time of my life with you. That’s really…wrong.”

“Yeah…and the police got involved and everything. I suppose we might have caused a little trouble.”

“More than just _a little_ , Buck.”

“It was worth it though. I had the time of my life too, you know. And selfish as it might sound, I really needed this, these days away from everyone. I’ll probably feel more guilty when I see how much effort everyone has put into finding us, and I’ll genuinely apologize – for the parts we could have done better, we did get lost against our will after all – but I’ll also remember what I got out of it. _Who_ I got because of it.”

Steve thought about that for a minute and figured Bucky did have a point. “I guess you’re right. But one thing is certain,” he said with a pained expression, “my mom will never let me go on a school trip again.”

“I’ll make sure to kidnap you without her noticing and sneak you into the luggage room in the bus, once we’ve arrived they sure as hell won’t send you back,” Bucky grinned.

“Great plan,” Steve deadpanned. “Perfect way to impress my mom as my boyfriend.”

 _Oops. Shit._ The word had slipped before he could help himself, but Bucky didn’t let him drown in his pool of self-doubt too long, and pressed a firm kiss to Steve’s lips while taking his slim face in his big and warm hands.

“Boyfriend, huh? I like it.” Steve tried his best to hide the embarrassing bluch creaping up his neck, but failed miserably. Bucky chuckled. Steve hated him for it.

“And no need to worry about your mom, though.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm mm,” Bucky hummed matter-of-factly. “I’ll swoon your mom just as quickly as I swooned your pretty ass,” he grinned. “I mean, look at me; I’m all grace and swooning-mother material.”

“Of course,” Steve laughed. “I give you three days.”

“Deal. She’ll beg me to marry you in two.”

Steve’s tummy warmed at the idea. Screw everybody who wanted to judge him for letting him have hope so soon in their relationship that that will happen to them one day.

“You’re too fond of yourself sometimes, you know that?”

“Only sometimes? I can deal with that,” he shrugged.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“We’ve been over that before, babe.”

“I like it when you call me that,” Steve whispered.

He blushed as he realised he’d spoken aloud. “I like how you react to it, so we’re making that a regular thing.”

Their peaceful teasing was interrupted by a high pitched cry. “Steve Rogers, you better be in there!”

Within a second the front of the tent was torn wide open, both Natasha and Sam leaning in. It had been Natasha who had spoken – Steve would recognise that voice anywhere – and she hadn’t sounded, and definitely didn’t look, amused at all.

“ _Steven Grant Rogers_ ,” she began and Steve braced himself to get the first speech of so many to come. “Why, just why, do you _always_ need to get yourself in trouble?”

“I-”

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Yeah let the woman speak,” Sam said teasingly from behind Natasha. He’d been wearing a semi-wicked grin – that never promised any good -  since he’d spotted Steve and Bucky together and Natasha had started speaking. Steve had no doubt, Sam found this all very amusing. No doubt he’d been worried, though.

“Sam, shut up.” Impressive how the woman can make him almost stutter with the use of so little words.

“Do you have any idea what we’ve been through these last couple of days?” If the way she looked uncharacteristically messy – dark bags under her eyes, her hair a tangled mess, she _was_ dressed as stylish as always however, come on, it’s still Natasha we’re talking about – was anything to go by, Steve had an indication. Not that he would ever tell her that. No, that would get him in serious trouble. He knew better than to underestimate both Natasha’s temper and capability to literally bring him down to the ground in the blink of an eye and have him pleading and apologizing.

“You’re a total piece of shit and I fucking love you and don’t ever do something like this to me ever again.”

“Got it,” Steve whispered and shared a meaningful look with his best friend.

“And Barnes?”

“Yes, Ma’am?” Bucky said with a big goofy smile, eyes gleaming with challenge. Steve couldn’t hold in the snicker, even Natasha cracked up a little. They might get along just fine. Sam had stepped somewhat to the background, knowing all too well to let Nat do her thing, but Steve heard him laugh too.

“If you and Steve are a real thing, and I can tell in his eyes that you’re a real deal,” – of course after only a minute of observing, she already knew everything that was going on between them – “you and I need to have a talk.” Without so much as blinking her eyes, she continued. “And Steve, congratulations.”

She was already getting up from her crowding position in the tent, and started walking off.

“For what?” Steve yelled after her.

“Losing you virginity!”

“I’ll just go ahead and stay here for the rest of my life where the embarrassment won’t be able to crush me completely and utterly.”

“You’re welcome!” she had the guts to yell.

“I’m abandoning you!”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Yeah, no. He wouldn’t. And didn’t actually want to. He couldn’t help but focus on his other friend, though, with his next question. “Is it all that obvious?”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t really feel comfortable talking about your sex life, thank you very much,” Sam said with disgust. “But if you want an honest answer, you’re sort of gleaming, it’s looking kind of weird on you. And you two talking like a married couple just before we made ourselves noticed – well Natasha did – and holding hands is a dead giveaway.”

Steve looked down at their connected hands, and shared a soft smile with Bucky before focussing back on Sam.

“Oh yeah, let’s not forget about the _single_ sleeping bag, and your fucking erect dicks” he said with a smirk. “I never thought I would ever say those words, but whatever, good on you, man!” he laughed. He turned to Bucky, “And I’m sorry you had to spent these last 48 hours with this little pain in the ass. Must have been really _hard_ on you.”

Bucky laughed at Sam's innuendo. “Oh god, you have no idea how much I have suffered!”

“Okay, Sam. Out!” Steve said with a stern face. “I won’t have you two teaming up against me like that. And Bucky, you wound me,” he said while dramatically putting a hand over his heart.

“So easily triggered,” Sam huffed, but let them be, for now.

“I have a couple of questions,” Bucky said when no one was in their space anymore.

“Shoot.”

“ _How the hell_ did Natasha know my surname, and that we’re together?”

“She knows everything. It’s something you’re going to need to let go at some point. Took me some time too.”

“Second of all, do I need to be scared for that ‘little talk’ Natasha wants to have with me?”

“Most definitely.”

 

They did get out of their shelter shortly after, they had to at some point. Within seconds, they were asked to fill out an official police report – Jesus this situation was really messed up – and were introduced to several officers to tell the story of how they got lost over and over again. They were rather kind and patient, and Steve understood that after the police had been called in on the search, it had taken a serious turn, and it needed to be dealt with according to protocol and filed officially.

Steve and Bucky were explained what had happened in the time they had been gone. As they had suspected, Wanda, Sam and Natasha hadn’t noticed quickly enough that the rest of their group was missing – Steve had expected Nat to at least notice their absence a little earlier. Alas, when they did finally notice, they immediately called the teachers to inform them on the missing people. The other groups were called and informed to look out for the two boys, but without success. After two hours of unsuccessful searching, while some remained at the camp to wait for the last groups to get back, the police was called for the first time. But as it would turn out, they showed their sympathy, but wouldn’t help until the first 24 hours of them missing had passed. They were simply following protocol, as Bucky and Steve didn’t seem to have been in immediate life-threatening danger.

At night, the group had given up the search for that day, as the chance of some others getting lost in the darkness of the forest was likely and would only make the situation worse. The teachers had called Bucky and Steve’s parents at that point and updated the police on the search.

They’d also decided to cancel the trip – another thing for Steve to feel guilty about – and arrange a touring car to drive everybody who didn’t want to help search home.

It was that afternoon that the police had started looking too, joining the people from school to search the area for the two of them.

Nothing again.

The next day, they made regional television. They had been missing for at least 36 hours at that point. If Sam’s hysterical laughter while recalling the story was any indication, Steve figured the news report of them missing hadn’t been too flattering. As it turned out, Sarah had picked the photo she’d snapped just before they’d taken off two days ago, to appear on television and all over the internet. Steve hadn’t seen it yet, but the way Sam was now doubling over in a completely exaggerated fit of laughter suggested Steve hadn’t looked his best. Just…sublime.

“Nah man, you’re a photo model,” Sam snickered. Steve flipped him off, but cracked a small grin noentheless. God, he’d missed the asshole.

“I’m sure you looked stunning as ever,” Bucky said in Steve’s ear, Steve flushed bright red at the compliment. It was really sweet.

But to God did he worry about that fucking picture, even though that really shouldn’t be his priority right now. Things like explaining this all to his mom, handling things with the police and the principle were kind of more important at the moment. Or at least, they should be.

The day after that, this morning, a police chopper had detected the two of them with a heat radiation camera – thank fuck for technology – and they’d been found.

Steve knew better than to question everyone why the hell they hadn’t been able to find them earlier with the amazing technology the local police force owned and the sheriff liked to brag about a little too much. On the other hand, bless the old man, this must have been the craziest and most exciting thing he’s experienced in his career.

And besides, he’s not complaining it took them a little of two entire days. It gave him and Bucky plenty of time to do…it, amongst other things, of course. The point, everything is okay now, everyone is okay now.

Except for Sarah Rogers.

The woman was all but running in their direction, red eyed and looking pretty distressed. Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. These past couple of days must have been really hard on her.

“Steve!” she shrieked when she pulled him into a tight hug, Steve’s face pressing into the side of her neck. “Oh sweetheart, you’ve scared me to death, you know that?” She took Steve’s face in both her hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I came here as soon as I heard they found you.”

According to Nat, Sarah had wanted to continue the search at night, several times, and had been sent home eventually to guarantee her own safety.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Steve whispered.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now, darling.” Steve knew his mom well enough to know that she was reassuring him as much as herself.

She took a step back and let her eyes roam over his body, inspecting him for any injuries. She seemed satisfied when she found none.

“Mrs. Carter said you’re healthy?” she asked just to be sure.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “The medics checked us both. Nothing wrong, except for the regular list of everything that’s wrong with me,” Steve grimaced.

“That’s good.” She looked around and asked, “Who’s Bucky?”

“I am, ma’am,” Bucky said within a second, extending a polite hand in Sarah’s direction. Steve had noticed him being uptight ever since she arrived. He was meeting his boyfriend’s mother after all. Yeah, Buck, so much for _I’m mother-swooning material_. My ass.

“Oh please, call me Sarah,” she smiled gently and shook off Bucky’s offered hand and pulled him into a hug instead, just as tight as the one she shared with her son. “Thank you for taking care of Steve.”

“It was my pleasure, ma’am-…Sarah.”

“Are you okay as well?” she asked.

“What? Uhm…yeah, yeah I guess. I’m good, thank you.” After stumbling over his words he ended up wearing a smile on his face. She really was sweet like Steve had explained.

“Will someone come pick you up, or do you need a ride home after you’re good to leave?”

“I heard my parents are on their way.”

“Just making sure you get home safely. It’s about time,” she smiled.

“Thank you,” Bucky repeated.

“Don’t worry about it, darling, You’re a friend of Steve’s and just survived two days in the woods.”

“Actually,” Steve stepped in and took hold of Bucky’s hand, entwining their fingers and looking up at his mom, who already wore a knowing look, “he’s my boyfriend.”

“I figured,” she smiled with warm eyes. “You seem like a really nice person, Bucky.” Steve could sense the unspoken words there, _but don’t you dare hurt my boy_. Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand in reassurance.

“The police and Mrs. Carter asked me to talk to them for a minute, I’ll be right back okay?” she said as she left after pulling the both of them in another hug.

“Okay, how the hell do all the women in your life know everything about you by literally looking at you for one damn second?” Bucky said in exasperation.

“I wish I knew, Buck. God I wish I knew,” Steve sighed.

**

**Bucky: Ugh I hate school. Can we please get lost again? There’s a forest just a mile away from here**

**Steve: You always have such good plans**

**Bucky: I know, it’s in my nature**

**Steve: You give yourself one more compliment and I’ll break up with you**

**Bucky: NO you wouldn’t!!**

**Steve: You’ll never know if you don’t take the risk and fucking behave**

**Bucky: Sir, yes sir**

**Bucky: At least meet me in the canteen during lunch?**

**Bucky: Pretty please???**

**Bucky: I love you?**

**Steve: Is that a question?**

**Bucky: Course not baby. You know I love you**

**Bucky: ALLLLL OF MEEE, LOVES ALLLLL OFFFF YOOOOOOOOUUU**

**Steve: Tell me what I did to deserve this**

**Bucky: You got lost in a goddamn forest you shit, that’s what you did**

**Steve: You got a point there**

**Steve: See you at lunch**

**Bucky: Not even one word of endearment huh?**

**Steve: Goodbye sweet blueberry muffin**

**Bucky: Yeah I reckon it’s time to go right about now, you’ve seriously overstepped**

**Steve: B**

**Steve: Y**

**Steve: E**

“You two are gross together,” Sam said with a judgemental tone when Steve finally lowered his phone. (Sam had been trying to get his attention for minutes. Not that Steve had noticed)

“We’re not even together right now!” Steve argued.

“Oh please, it looked like you two were having sex through texts with how much you giggled and smiled and fucking gasped,” he shot back. “Come on, Nat, you have got to back me up on this one.”

“He does have a point, Steve,” she shrugged. “It’s been a month and you still can’t spend a minute-”

“Correction,” Sam interrupted, “a _second_.”

“A _second_ separated from each other.”

“Should I apologize for being happy or something?” Steve asked with sarcasm.

“Yeah, right about now would work for me,” Sam countered.

“Is he being a pain in the ass again?” Bucky asked with a laugh as he came out of nowhere and joined their little club waiting outside the chemistry lab for the teacher to arrive. It was one of the few classes he and Bucky didn’t have together and Steve hated it. Yeah, okay, maybe his friends had a valid point. But who could blame him? He had Bucky fucking Barnes for a boyfriend! Basically the sweetest, most caring, funniest, hottest man around. A pain in the ass, too, but so was Steve, so that part was forgiven.

And when he was being honest with himself, he still couldn’t believe it was real. After all, the way they'd met would make a pretty good cliché romantic movie, too cliché to be real. And yet, here they were, together for a month, having shared countless of intimate moments, both physically and emotionally and it had come so naturally when Bucky had first told Steve he loved him.

They had been together in his room, a lazy afternoon in bed, watching some silly show Steve loved and Bucky hated but watched because Steve loved it, when Bucky had commented on how Steve had the worst taste in shows. Steve had challenged him, climbed in his lap and asked him why he watched it if he hated it so much. Without so much a batting an eye, Bucky had said, “Because you make sacrifices for the people you love.”

He’d looked shocked for a second before he’d looked Steve straight in the eye and repeated, “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too,” Steve had all but blurted out.

What happened after that is called the best sex they’d had until then.

Their magic bubble of delight and happiness was popped, however, when they came down to grab some food – sex is an exhausting exercise, alright. And okay, Bucky’s always hungry anyway – and saw Sarah on the couch with an unimpressed expression. She’d explained how they needed to make rules if “You two want to go at it in my house.” Steve had reacted with an embarrassed “Mom!” and Bucky had laughed only to be scolded by Sarah seconds later.

“The same goes for you, mister.”

“I’m sorry. Of course, ma’am.”

It hadn’t gotten much better after that. Sarah had hinted here and there whenever Bucky was around (even when Bucky wasn’t around) about her knowing they were already having sex and that they needed to do it safely. She hadn’t, however, explicitly told them so – thank whoever’s up there for that happy miracle. No matter how good Steve’s relationship with his mom is, it’s never exactly _enjoyable_ to have _the talk_.

Not like Sarah Rogers seemed to care the slightest bit about that. Steve got his stubbornness and strong-willed mind from someone after all.

So they talked, Steve wishing a hole in the ground would swallow him hole and even Bucky sported a blush every now and then but managed to get through it all a little better. Sarah even went as far as handing them a package of condoms and a bottle of lube. Thanks, mom.

Lesson well-learned. Don’t have sex when Sarah Rogers is around. They certainly took their chance when she wasn’t around.

It hadn’t taken too long either for Steve to make good on his word; he’d taken to drawing Bucky in all his glorious detail for two hours until the older boy could no longer hold his pose and burst out laughing again. Just like he’d done when they’d started and he’d made a not so subtle _Titanic_ reference. But nonetheless, Steve loved the drawing as one of his best. Besides it being a nude of Bucky’s glorious figure – _Jesus Buck, you’re so hot_ – it captured another one of those happy and careless moments between them that seemed to come so naturally.

Bucky had met his part of the deal and played Steve his guitar. And Steve had been really fucking spot on when he’d thought Bucky was good; the man was absolutely brilliant. He was slightly biased though, as it was his boyfriend playing him a romantic and cliché love song naked.

“Earth to Steve!! Hello?” Steve was torn from his train of thought by Sam yelling right in his face.

“Hi?”

“Ah good, he’s back,” he huffed. “Do I need to repeat how I explained to Bucky how you two are too fucking clingy all the time and-”

“Nope! Guess I got that speech mere minutes ago, thank you very much,” Steve cut him off, but shot him a lopsided smile as he pulled Bucky to the closest ally in the hallway to get some privacy.

“You’re the worst friend ever, Steve Rogers!” Sam yelled after them.

“Love you too!” he yelled back.

“And here I thought you loved me most,” Bucky fake pouted.

“I do.” To prove his point, Steve slammed his mouth to Bucky’s – almost everyone was in class, no one would be bothered by them making out – and sucked on his lower lip as the brunet let out a low groan. Steve just couldn’t fucking help himself. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought we agreed on meeting at lunch, don’t you have class or something?”

“Got a French class a couple classrooms down the hall and I couldn’t resist saying hi to my incredible boyfriend.”

“I’m flattered.”

“And besides, you know I hate French class, and teachers love you so it doesn’t matter when we’re both a little late.”

“I take that back. You’re no good for me.”

“Exactly what you need, you mean.”

“Whatever. You better spent these few minutes wisely, bad boy. Because I actually am going to class after this.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, connecting their lips again and savouring the small sound Steve made as response. Steve’s hands moved to Bucky’s waist and squeezed gently as he curled his tongue around his boyfriend’s.

“Gentlemen,” a female voice interrupted them and made them move away from each other in seconds. “I believe you two are supposed to be in class,” Peggy said.

“Y- yes,” Steve stammered.

“You too, Bucky.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky said with his sweetest voice and dared to lean into Steve once more and whisper, “Love you too, babe,” before pecking his cheek and walking off to class.

Steve grabbed his bag from the ground and passed his teacher, sure to have bright red cheeks as he did so. She just smiled as friendly as ever and said, “You fit well together.” And okay, yeah, maybe a teacher wasn’t in a position to say that, but then again, a teacher wasn’t really in the position either to see two of her students frantically making out on repeat.

And if Steve’s day could have gotten any better, that right there did it. Because, yes, they fit really fucking well together. And despite his friends’ disapproval, he was not shy to show off just how well. Because he was in love with Bucky Barnes, a month ago not more than another face in the crowd. Now, the best thing that’s ever happened to Steve.

And maybe he got lost again, lost in the love he feels for his boyfriend. But it felt just as good, probably even better than when they’d first gotten lost together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I simply couldn't write one of them playing the guitar naked and not present you this gif. I know that in the story it's Bucky who plays and that Steve is small, but come on guys, look at this wholesome man.
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> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you want to have a discussion on how amazing Stucky is (or talk to me about other random stuff), come say hi to me on [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fluffysax)!


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